Mark of the Soulstones 1 The Footsteps of Evil
by Darthcourt
Summary: Watch Arcsaur deQuester track down Diablo in this novelization of Diablo 2. Originally posted by original author more than 15 years ago, been modified a bit for modern internet.
1. ForewordDisclaimer

Foreword/Disclaimer

This is Based on property owned by Blizzard Entertainment.

The Diablo franchise is owned by Blizzard Entertainment.

It is the brainchild of an author that seems to have long left the Internet by the name of Arc/Arcfiction.

The first two Parts can still be found on the D2 Tomb of Knowledge

Was Originally posted on the Authors personal website(defunct). Era 2002-2008.

Covers Diablo 2 Acts 1-3 in their entirety and Part of Act 4.

It has been Modified somewhat to take into account modern Internet as this was written in the 56K dialup era.

I hope this either catches ARC's attention, Enabling them to finish/rewrite it or someone is inspired to complete it as there are too few quality stories; _Ladies,Ladies,Ladies_ by _Sub-Zero879 (id; s/5767323)_, _Lord of Distractions _by _thebluninja (id; s/8871565), Keeper of Terror _by_ Bear of Cali (id; s/10818391),_ _Diablo Rewritten_ by _The Halfblood Raven_ (_id;_ _s/9546380) _and_ Diabolic _by _Yunaine (id; s/10015595) _are some of the very few barring this story that are somewhat interesting and don't go godmode/ silly SI or Mary Sue.

This is the authors disclaimer;

_**Greetings **_

_**Welcome the Mark of the SoulStones. **_

_****_The Mark of the SoulStones is a free online, ongoing fantasy novel, based on the very cool Diablo 2 RPG game. It's a work still in progress, and there is definitely still a lot more stuff to go.

The Mark of the SoulStones is basically my first attempt at writing fantasy novel. As a hopeful future fantasy writer, I thought after reading some fan fiction material floating out there on the web, that what the hey, I'd give it a shot, write a decent fan fiction spanning the events of the great RPG game Diablo 2, as well as the expansion Lord of Destruction.


	2. Chapter 01 Rogue Encampment

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_CHAPTER 01 Rogue Encampment_

The smell of death and rotting flesh was overpowering. To all but the most inexperienced traveler, it was clear that the wreckage of the inn was caused some time ago, and the corpses were many days old. However, the age of the site did little to calm the racing hearts and the churning guts of the merchants who had stopped to examine the site. And the fact that they were the first to discover the site attested to the dangers of the roads in recent times, and how this danger had affected the amount of traffic that the roads now held.

Arcsaur deQuester knelt beside a particularly gruesome corpse. The body was severely burnt, and the burns that featured all over his body marked the agonized visage of horror fixed on the poor soul's face. Though his palm was firmly clamped over his mouth, hiding his expression of loathing, Arc was no stranger to the sight of death. His eyes traveled down then body to the upper torso. Barely visible on the body due to the burns, was a deep slash. This man wasn't killed by the fire, but by a sword.

"Hey, Arc! C'mon, let's go, I have no wish to dawdle here, and I want to press on, see if I can't reach the Rogue's camp by nightfall."

The voice belonged to Warsthon, the leader of the merchant train. Though Warsthon was not his boss, Arc stood to follow out of respect for his position. Arc and Warsthon were travelling in same direction for the moment, and so Warsthon allowed Arc to travel with them. Arc was grateful for the numbers when it came to resting at night, and Warsthon never minded having an extra sword to travel with his train. You can never be too careful in these dark days.

Arc walked away from the burnt out inn and fell in step with Warsthon. Just earlier this morning they were joking with the others in the train and saying how they were hurrying towards a certain inn near the Rogues camp.

"Ahh, I can't wait to get a fair nip of ale at that inn," Warsthon had said. "Maybe we'll even stop there for the night if I get too comfortable. A nice feather bed wouldn't go astray, if they have one."

But now no one was thinking or talking about ale or hot stew or beds or even friendly barmaids. There was little talk, as all minds where thinking the same thing. The world has been steadily going mad for some time now, and this is just the latest of witnessed atrocities.

After a time, they approached a small hill in the distance. Warsthon pointed. "There, just on the far side of that hill is where this supposed Rogue Camp is. I want to be there before we break tonight. God knows w don't want to be camping out in the open again after seeing that."

Arc nodded his agreement. "It's another foul deed to lay at Diablo's door."

Warsthon snorted. "Bah, so yer one of those believers are you? Always goin' on about Diablo this and Lord of Terror that. The reason the travel is so bad is cos the King has been lax the past couple of years with his border defense and his duty to destroy monsters where they be, inside the borders and out. This here trouble is heralding an invasion of monsters, hungry for spoils. But don't give me any of that Third Prime Evil rose from Hell to take the world in a war of unholy fire garbage."

Though his tone of voice was derisive, it was also bantering. Despite his bold speech, Warsthon was honestly at a loss to explain the rise of atrocities. However, he didn't believe the stories of Diablo rising, perhaps because he was scared they may be true.

Arc rolled his eyes. They had had this conversation before. He knew that Warsthon was not arguing for the sake of the argument. He was arguing to try and lift the topic away from the carnage seen that day.

"The king has been slack in his duties because the king is dead, Warsthon. King Leoric fell against Diablo's own hands. Trust me when I say Diablo has risen and it is his influence that is spreading across the land."

Though all the points of the debate had already been exchanged between the two, they still played out the verbal dance to cover the time and occupy the mind.

They made good time. It was late afternoon when they reached the crude gates of the Rogue's camp. A woman armed with a bow stood on top of a wooden palisade and called down to them, demanding to know their business. Warsthon replied "We are merchants, and we are wondering if we might share and contribute to the security of your camp."

"You may come in, though we already have a resident merchant here at the moment. You are lucky to even reach here. Forces or darkness surround us and I fear that once you come in it may be a good while before you can leave again." Warsthon started to reply, his eyes wide and his hands trembling at the thought that he may be stuck here and not able to leave. The woman cut him off. "Quickly come in. you can ask questions of Akara, our leader."

Warsthon lead the train inside and then demanded to be taken to this Akara. Arc quietly took his pack from one of the wagons and took his leave of Warsthon. He knew Warsthon was preoccupied and would be busy probably until later that night and so Arc left, hoping to find some food.

Arc wandered around the camp, noting the general layout to familiarize himself with the place. If the woman at the gate was to be believed, he may be here longer than he expected. He chafed at the delay of getting to his destination, but he knew it could not he helped. In the northeast corner, he noted, was a makeshift blacksmith, so if his long sword needed repairs, he knew where to go. He noted also a strange square stone that seemed to have circular carvings on it to his left, and wondered at the significance. He turned to his right and then headed towards the center of the camp.

At the center was a collection of campfires, bright against the fading light, and the smell of roasting meat was rich on his nose as he headed towards them. He passes a solid looking woman dressed in chain mail. As he walked past he felt her eyes follow him. He decided to ignore her. He decided that she was most likely the leader of the warrior women that guarded this camp. Arc wanted nothing to do with her. He had his own path he must travel.

Arc approached one fire with only two women sitting. Both had their meal already, but only one was eating. The other woman, a young woman, who could be no older than twenty winters, was heatedly arguing with the other.

"Don't you see, if we just sit here than we passively wait for the enemy to come to us. We are no use to anybody sitting here, allowing the enemy time to gather their forces until they can overrun this camp."

The other, an older woman replied. "The simple fact is that we are too weakened. If we strike out we draw attention to ourselves. Better to wait here and hope for aid, conserve our strength."

The younger was about to reply when Arc entered the circle of light surrounding their fire. Both immediately looked up. "Greetings," Arc said, inclining his head politely. The older woman responded with a smile and a nod. The younger merely glared at him for interrupting her argument. "I am newly arrived to your camp and was wondering if you might spare some food? I have coin."

The older waved away his offered coin and cut him a generous portion of the meat. She then offered him some bread and water and motioned for him to sit. Gratefully, he accepted his food and sat. As he was eating, the younger attempted to restart the conversation, but was silenced by the other.

"Leave such topics for the council tonight."

As Arc ate, he motioned towards the hunters bows that were placed next to the two women. "So then you two are warriors, helping to guard this camp?"

The younger of the two answered proudly "We are Rogues, and this is our land. We are defending it from the forces of darkness that has covered this land recently." Arc nodded his approval.

The younger Rogue motioned towards his own long sword and the large shield strapped to his pack. "Are you too a warrior, come to help us in the fight against evil here?"

Arc shrugged non-committedly. "Not really. Actually, I came here with Warsthon's merchants. We arrived this afternoon. I was merely helping to guard the merchant train."

"Ah," the younger Rogue replied, her stare turning even frostier. "A common mercenary. A man who sells his sword to the highest bidder without thought to honor or justice."

Arc half smiled nonchalantly "Perhaps" he said. He finished his meal in silence and took his leave.

He found Warsthon again, setting up his camp and cursing like a fishwife. "So, we seem to he surrounded but the forces of evil, and now you can't leave" Arc greeted the raging man as he approached.

Warsthon answered with a curse. "Seems so. And these Rogues ain't telling anybody what they're gonna do about it. They're holding a big Council thing later tonight, but they won't let anyone in who ain't a Rogue."

Arc laughed "I don't see you wearing one of those red leotard things, Warsthon."

The merchant snorted. "No, and so that means no know for me, you know? And to make matters worse there is already a merchant here! God knows how long we're gonna be stuck here, and I have to worry about competitive rates!"

"Yes, life is hard. I've already met your competition, by the way. Some greasy fellow named Gheed."

"Gheed! Gheed? That ass!? Faahh!" Warsthon cursed. "The perfect end to the perfect day!"

Later that night, Arc left his bedroll to wander over to the large tent in the middle of the camp. It was one of the few still lit that night, and it was the largest, so Arc guessed that this must be the location of the Rogue's council. He remained at a respectful distance but kept an ear tuned towards the sounds coming from the tent.

Debate seemed to be running high in the tent. The Rogues were a prideful band of warriors, and it chafed them to be sitting still all day while their land was rife with the creatures of evil. But the more experienced and the wiser Rogues knew that they were woefully outnumbered and any serious loss to their number would leave this camp undermanned to properly defend the people within.

One of the loudest voices protesting the inactivity Arc recognized to belong to the young Rogue he met at the fire. He grinned at the fire and passion in her voice as she voiced her desire to take the fight to the enemy with vehemence. Yet soon the elder Rogues shouted her down, rejecting her rash suggestions. It was more early than late when the council finally broke. Arc was standing within the shadows of a great tree as the Rogues began to leave the tent. One of the last to leave was the young Rogue. She stormed off, and Arc could see from her expression that she wasn't happy. He deduced that the Rogues would stick to their strategy of inaction.

A short time later, Arc headed back towards Warsthon's camp. But on the way, he caught sight of a figure sneaking in the shadows towards the other end of the camp. Holding her hunting bow, and fully armored, the young Rogue was heading towards the exit of the camp. Arc rationalized that she was probably on watch, or perhaps patrol, but he found himself following her anyway. However, she went not to the gate, but to a far corner of the camp, where she wiggled out from under the wall where a single log had been cut short.

Arc turned and ran back to his pack where he grabbed his shield, his belt and long sword. He hurried to the gate where he made an excuse to the guard of having lost a valuable on the road. As he left the Rogue camp, he turned to follow the dark figure on almost on the horizon by now that was the young Rogue.


	3. Chapter 02 Den of Evil

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_CHAPTER 2 Den of Evil_

Telindhra stalked silently across the plain, her hunting bow at the ready and an arrow already nocked. Already she had shot down some zombies and a few Fallen. She already knew from a previous outing, the location of the cave that housed the monsters. She was the one who had found the cave on one of these outings, the ones that she hadn't told her superiors about, that is until she found the cave. They had been disappointed and angry with her for going out alone without the approval of one of the elders, but she hadn't been punished because of the intelligence she had brought back.

However, the Elders refused to act on her information, even though she had found and enemy advance base so close to the camp. From there, it was almost guaranteed that they could stage and attack the camp soon unless they dealt with the threat. Well, there was nothing to it. If the Elders refused to act, she would. She would destroy this Den of Evil by herself.

As she approached the cave, a voice sounded out from behind. "Fine day for a nice little stroll."

Telindhra froze, then straightened. She did not, however, turn to face the source of the voice. "I was wondering when you'd show yourself."

"So you knew I was following."

"Of course, I am a Rogue, after all." Suddenly, she whipped around, an arrow pointing towards the man's heart.

He was standing there, his arms crossed, his sword sheathed and his shield slung across his back. He stared at her boldly, his long hair black, tied back to a warrior's tail, waved slightly in the breeze. He was slightly taller than her, and she was considered tall among her people, where the tall Rogue women often stood even to their men, and taller than most men from other lands.

He in turn studied her. She was slim, slightly but not overly muscled. She was obviously quick and controlled, and he sensed, gifted among her people. Her long brown hair framed her beautiful face. He would have found her attractive, were it not for her sharp gaze staring black death at him.

"Why are you here?" She demanded.

"I saw you leave. Figured it must be something exciting, for you to sneak out like that." He said. "Might have even been something naughty."

If possible, her stare became harder. The bow sharply came up to point at his face. "Are you accusing me of betraying my people? How dare you!"

He shrugged, "I didn't know, but you can never tell, you know. Looks can be deceiving."

Her gaze narrowed. "So a lowdown mercenary like you thought that I might be your ticket to finding someone willing to hire you around these parts? Well you can forget it, I'm not a traitor, so you might as well go back."

Again, he shrugged. "I suppose I should. But if you don't mind, I figure I'll tag along with you. You look like your ready to kill something bad, and I think I might as well come."

"I don't need your company." Telindhra snapped.

"So shoot me," he returned, "Otherwise lead the way."

Fury raged across her face, but he knew that she wouldn't shoot. Eventually she lowered her bow and stalked towards the cave.

He jogged to catch up. "My name is Arcsaur deQuester, by the way."

She didn't even turn his head. "Telindhra" she snapped furiously.

He grinned. "My friends call me Arc, so feel free."

She turned to look at him, smiling sweetly. "My friends call me Telin. You, however, will call me Telindhra."

Arc was still chuckling as they entered the cave.

Soon they were fairly deep into the cave. Despite the lack of light, they could both see fairly clearly. Telindhra tapped her ring, indicating it was enchanted with a light radius spell, a spell that allowed all creatures within a certain distance of the object to see a certain distance, as though the object was a light source, though the object itself did not give light. Thus, any creature not within the distance was not effected, and thus could not detect any light, nor could see the wearer.

Arc nodded and tapped his shield, indicating it held a similar enchantment.

Soon they heard guttural voices in the distance. Both warriors immediately muttered the command word to cease the light enchantment. Three Fallen turned a corner up just ahead, one holding a torch, illuminating them. Telindhra waited, then leapt out and shot her bow, taking one in the throat. Shocked, the two others hesitated, costing one his life. The other ran shrieking back, but before he could turn the corner, took an arrow in the back.

Telindhra relit her ring and turned and saw that Arc had yet to even draw his sword.

"Scared of wetting your sword? Or perhaps you don't know how to hold it?"

Arc smiled. "You obviously had a handle on the situation. You needed none of my help."

Telindhra smiled back icily. "But you didn't even try to help, obviously lacking of gentlemanly virtues."

Arc rolled his eyes. "I am a swordsman, you are a bowman, or woman I guess, so you don't need me obstructing your shot, and I have no need for your arrow in my back as I fight. We are a team. You shoot, and I'll fight if they come to close. I thought that was painfully obvious."

Telindhra didn't reply, instead stalked off down the corridor. Arc followed just behind. He wanted to be able to leap into the fray quickly without getting in her way if she had to shoot quickly.

They came to a rough side corridor but chose to follow straight ahead. A little ways ahead the corridor opened up to a large room. There was a fire and a large band of Fallen and zombies inside.

"About half a dozen Fallen, two shaman and three zombies" Arc whispered as they shut off their enchantments and crept closer to the opening. All enmity forgotten in battle anticipation as Telindhra nocked an arrow. With the element of surprise and her bow to even the odds before the battle started in earnest, they should be alright, she thought, as long as this ruffian doesn't panic at the sight of battle.

Just as she raised her bow, there was shouting from behind. Four Fallen had come from the side passage and had raised the alarm. She pivoted and let fly, shouting for Arc to guard the opening as she took care of the rear.

Fallen tend to run at the prospect of death, so she easily scattered the pack with a quick kill and picked the other three off in rapid succession. She spun, fearing that Arc would be overwhelmed, or perhaps even betray her for his own life….

But found to be quite mistaken. Three Fallen had charged simultaneously and had flailed their swords out almost in unison at Arc. Arc had seemingly armed himself instantly, slipping his shield off his back and into place, then drawing his sword fluidly. As the Fallen reached him, he advanced, parrying away sword strokes with broad, sweeping shield parries of his own, before a lightning thrust of his long sword, followed by a backhand stroke ended the three Fallen in the space of a breath.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Telindhra turn after finishing the first four. "Take the Shamans!" He yelled as he charged the group. Indifferent swordwork and slow zombie attacks were no match for a swordsman such as Arc. Easily fending off the other three Fallen with both shield and sword, Arc waited for the expected opening. As it came, he neatly sidestepped to his left, bashing his shield into the left Fallen, knocking it from his feet, while simultaneously slashing the throat from the center Fallen. As the other Fallen fled, and the other knocked down tried to stumble to it's feet, he decapitated that Fallen with a wide sweep and leapt forward, greeting the first of the slower moving zombies with a spinning slash.

Telindhra was busy concentrating dodging Fire Bolts from the last shaman and also returning fire coherently from her bow that she almost didn't notice the last remaining Fallen fleeing towards her. At the last second she noticed it's raised blade and leapt back from its slash. Annoyed and a bit embarrassed at the close call, she slammed her bow into its face twice with all her strength and then stabbed the arrow she was about to fire into its eye.

Arc, meanwhile, easily dispatched the slow moving zombies, just as Telindhra's arrow slammed into the Fallen shaman's chest.

Arc sheathed his sword and motioned for them to continue. Without a word Telindhra followed, feigning disinterest in Arc's show of power and expertise. Yet inside, she was reeling from awe to joy. Truly, he was one of the most spectacular warriors she had ever seen. Originally her intention was to hit the Den, forcing the evil ones into premature action, or perhaps the elders into more decisive action, or perhaps to die in battle rather than to live in shame, hiding behind walls as her lands were ravaged.

Yet with this mysterious warrior, she dared to hope that they could win.

Hours passed as Telindhra and Arc roved through the tunnels like two vengeful spirits, smiting down all that stood. While no less than a band of 4 or 5 good Rogues could clear this cave, Telindhra marvelled at the ease at which these two defeated all opponents.

While most Rogues were excellent archers, unparalleled in the world, they were woefully inexperienced in close combat, being little better than common soldiers in hand to hand combat.

But Arc was good to his word. They were a team. Telindhra could wreak fast, deadly havoc from a distance with her expert precision, while any that approached were no match for Arc's lightning blade.

Finally, they reached the end of the line. Squatting behind some convenient boulders further up the corridor, they studied the door guarded by two great behemoths.

Telindhra popped up from behind the boulders and began to launch a volley of arrows at the two behemoths. They roared and charged, but Telin kept up her deadly barrage and soon it was over. One almost came within striking distance, but a quick charging attack from Arc ended the threat quickly.

"Arc, I have a problem."

"Hmm?" Arc queried absently, studying the door.

"I'm running out of arrows. I had counted on recovering these I just used, but these behemoth hides are damn tough and I don't think I can reuse any."

Now Arc turned around. "How many?"

Telindhra shrugged "Four."

"Oh well," Arc sighed. "This is the last room, and I don't know about you, but I don't feel like leaving now. Just pick your shots carefully, then after that, use this." He drew a dagger from his belt and handed it to her.

She sniffed. "Maybe if they had a roasting pig in there I'd know how to use this." She said derisively. "Hang on."

She quickly ran back the way they had come, visiting the last room. There Telindhra retrieved a dropped javalin and a crude buckler, so as not to restrict her initial bow work.

As she returned, she found Arc standing next to the door, ear pressed to it.

"They must have heard the behemoths die, but they haven't come out yet," he whispered to her. "They're trying to be quiet but I can still hear them. They're setting a trap."

She shrugged "Fight." He kicked the door in and dove into a forward roll in a diagonal direction to the door. Telindhra covered the right side of the room, targeting Fallen and Behemoths. Arc came up out of his role on the left hand side, right in front of a group of about seven zombies. At the back of the pack came a chilling voice. _"Now you face __**SpectreFire**__, and you shall perish."_

While the other zombies of the cave were stupid, attacking individually, these zombies were guided by their leader, and all six circled and attacked coherently as a team and the leader watched. Arc backed away, putting his back to a wall, and was using all his speed and skill to fend off the coordinated attacks.

Telindhra expended her last arrow downing a Behemoth and charged into the room, slamming her bow into the face of the nearest Fallen. Seeing Arc in trouble, she hurled her bow at one of the zombies before drawing her dropped javelin and attacking the last couple of Fallen.

The bow hit one of the Zombies in the back, providing all the distraction Arc needed. As a few Zombies turned to the distraction, Arc broke to his right, leading with a sword stroke that downed one of the Zombies. Breaking out of the circle, Arc was suddenly in the right position again, facing zombies as a group in front of him, instead of having to worry about his flanks and back to defend. He wasn't about to lose that advantage again.

Before the Zombies even had a change to realize their prey had flown, he charged back into the fray, with swift combination slashes and stabs that decimated the zombie ranks, as the last zombie fell to pieces, Telindhra moved to join him to face **SpectreFire.**

But Arc motioned her back "I'll take this one." Telindhra started to object, but realized that without her bow, she was just an average fighter. Reluctantly, she stepped back.

**SpectreFire** started forward with a sweeping claw, but Arc never gave him chance. A quick body block with his shield was followed up by a sharp backhand shieldbash that put **SpectreFire** off balance. A mid slash, followed by a sweeping downwards cut took SpectreFire's left leg under him, bringing him to his knees. The shield again flew across to knock a feeble claw thrust aside, and Arc responded by a thrust that pierced the zombie's chest.

Suddenly weary, Arc sheathed his sword and turned to face the Rogue. "So that's that then? All cleared?"

"Not just yet." Telindhra said, winking. "This room was they're command center, but it was also their treasure room. As joint victor, you get to help me carry this stuff back to camp."

Arc groaned.


	4. Chapter 03 Marching Orders

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

CHAPTER 3 Marching Orders

Telindhra stood before Akara in stony silence. Akara was obviously not pleased with what she had done.

"This is the second time that you have ventured out without the approval of your superiors. Though you are without a doubt a gifted warrior, perhaps the most gifted we have left Telindhra, it seems that you are inexperienced in the fine art of following orders." Akara veritably shook with rage as she shouted.

Telindhra opened her mouth to retort but was quickly cut off by the furious Akara. "Last time was forgotten only because we were aware of the value of the information you brought back, but this time is inexcusable! You deliberately disobeyed direct orders, especially in a matter of such strategic importance! To disobey orders on the field of battle can be punishable by death, are you aware of this?"

Telindhra knew Akara better than to fear for her life. However, the statements still brought a shiver to her spine as she realized the gravity of her actions. But she still couldn't help to defend herself.

"But we won! We defeated the stronghold, destroyed the evil in the den in its entirety."

"Yes, and by doing so you have brought the attention of the Blood Raven upon us! Attention we may not be ready for!" Akara shot back. "Enough of this for now, I need time to think, and you need to start on your punishment. I have seen to it that you will be on latrine duty all this week. Let us see if you can follow orders this time!" With a wave of her hand, Akara dismissed her.

Telindhra groaned. There was nothing she hated more than digging latrine trenches for the human waste that the camp produced. Sighing, she left Akara's tent to find a shovel.

Later, Kashya, leader of the Rogue warriors, entered Akara's tent. "The first blow has been struck."

"I know." Akara replied. "Like as not, it was probably for the best. We both know that outside aid won't come to us in time. All this cautious waiting is for nothing, despite what the Elders think."

Kashya nodded in agreement. "But the Elders refuse to see this. They are too afraid to move, even now. The first blow has been struck and we cannot convince them that our only hope is now to move forward with it. Every minute we wait allows Blood Raven to muster her forces against us." She slumped into a chair in defeat.

Akara sighed. "There is only one thing that I can do, only one way to press forward, that the Elder's will allow."

Kashya lifted her head in hope. "Tell me." As she listened to Akara's plan, her eyes widened in horror.

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Arc was dozing when he woke to hear his name being called called. Groggily, he stood and turned towards the voice to find the owner was the chain mail clad Rogue that he saw the day before.

"Greetings warrior. You are the one called Arc?" He nodded in affirmation. "I am Kashya, and I am the leader of the Rogue Warriors of this camp. If you will accompany me, you are invited to join our council."

Arc nodded his assent and walked to follow Kashya to the same large tent he saw last night.

As he stepped inside, he was greeted by nods of approval and even some clapping from some of the standing Rogue warriors. Kashya lead him to a table in the center where he was motioned to sit, next to Telindhra. She had a stunned expression on her face and barely noticed his arrival. Touching her hand, he smiled at her, thinking she was stunned by the enthusiasm of their victory. Perhaps she had been promoted or something.

"Arc deQuester." He looked up at the sound of his name. In front of him sat a conclave of five Rogues, all with the appearance of wisdom and experience. "We are the Rogue Elders and we head this council." Arc inclined his head and murmured a greeting.

The Rogue seated in the center spoke. Her words were friendly and her smile genial. "We have asked you here to thank you for your deeds today. We have heard impressive tales of you skill with the sword. You shall be an honored guest in our camp."

Then the second Rogue to the left spoke, and her face was grave. "We have also called you, however, to witness the decreed punishment upon the head of the Rogue Telindhra."

Arc looked around in confusion. "Punishment? What?"

The Rogue ignored him and continued. "Telindhra. For two counts of disobeying orders and one count of endangering your sisters through disorderly conduct, you have been found guilty. Do you accept this verdict?"

Telindhra's gaze rose to meet that of the Elders. "Yes."

The Rogue Elder nodded and continued. "Very well then. So your actions have started this battle, so shall your actions finish it. You are charged to defend your honor, by slaying the Blood Raven, Commander of the forces of darkness threatening this camp."

Arc leapt to his feet, unmindful of his chair skittering across the floor. "Now wait just a goddamn minute! This is how you treat your heroes? She risks her life for you people and you send her on a suicide mission on the same day?"

The Elder sitting on the far right replied. "We are not heartless, sir deQuester. We have heard the account that Telindhra has related. We have decreed that this punishment will only take effect if you agree to accompany her. Together, we all believe that you and Telindhra can succeed."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I have pressing business in Tristram, I must take my leave of this camp." Arc bowed and turned to leave.

But he spun around again when he heard a cynical laugh. "Selling your sword to the enemy already?" Telindhra spat.

Grabbing the Rogue by the shoulders, he tried to shake some sense into her. "Listen girl, I'm trying to save your skin. If you go, you're dead. Goddamn it they should be mustering their whole force, not sending a lone girl and a swordsman she hardly knows."

Telindhra violently shrugged his arms off her. "I bid you good day then sir." She turned away from him. "Nevertheless, I accept this charge. I shall leave immediately."

"What?!" Arc yelled in shock. "Are you crazy? What, you think you can just waltz into an army of undead and shoot their leader? You have no chance and you know it."

Refusing to answer, Telindhra stalked out of the tent. She'd leave immediately.

Telindhra was not ten minutes away from the camp when she realized someone was trying to catch up to her. Sighing in frustration, she continued to walk, refusing to turn and watch Arc run to catch up to her.

Soon, he reached her. "Wait up, geez." Arc said as he fell in step.

Telindhra tried to keep her temper and failed. Whirling, she confronted him.

"Tristram isn't this way, if your looking for some demon to pay you for murder, you know!"

"I'm not going to Tristram, at least, not yet." Arc continued to walk, not even stopping to talk. However, he did stop at the sound of an arrow being drawn and nocked into a bow.

"Haven't we gone through this before?"

"Well you are not coming with me. You said it yourself, it's a suicide mission, and I already owe you a debt. I refuse to owe two debts to the same stinking, honorless mercenary."

Arc sighed. This was going to be a long journey. The tentative camaraderie that they had in the Den of Evil seemed to have evaporated. "So what, you kill me? And you call me honorless."

"No, I don't kill you." Telindhra shot back furiously. "I shoot you in the leg, preventing you from following me, thus saving your life and clearing my debt." She drew back the string and aimed for his leg. "Unless you decide to go back to the camp on your own."

Arc nonchalantly began to study his fingernails. "Shoot me and you'll be disobeying orders again. Kashya will have your ears and Akara will have you digging latrines for the rest of your natural life."

Telindhra's face went a deep shade of red, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Arc leaned his head back and rolled his eyes. "Oh open your eyes, girl. They said they'd only let you go if I went too. If I hadn't agreed to come then your sisters would have nabbed you before you got to the gate. You'd be chained to town, digging latrines and serving your punishment." If possible, Telindhra went even redder. "In fact, Akara gave me this to show you." He fished a parchment from his pocket and offered it to her.

But when she refused to lower her bow and take the parchment, he shrugged and opened it himself. "Seems your hands are full at the moment. Why don't I read it?" He elaborately cleared his throat. "Rogue Telindhra. On this mission of utmost importance you have the faith and prayers of your sisters to guide your bow. You have been assigned to serve under Arc deQuester. . ."

"What?" Telindhra yelped in horror.

". . . He is your superior officer in battle and you shall follow his orders as you normally would any other orders. See that this time you actually do. Akara, High Priestess to the Sisters of the Sightless Eye." Arc threw the parchment to her feet and grinned smugly. Telindhra removed her arrow and slung her bow and hastily reached down to grab the parchment. Her fury was clearly written over her face as she read the message.

"Well, don't dawdle soldier, chop chop, lets go." Arc spouted, clapping his hands.

Telindhra closed her eyes, mastering her anger. Grinding her teeth, she muttered "Yes sir," and stalked off again.

Laughing, Arc followed.


	5. Chapter 04 Battle at the Burial Grounds

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_CHAPTER 4 Battle at the Burial Grounds_

Together, Arc and Telindhra traveled for most of the day across the plains. The plains were rife with wandering bands of monsters. Fallen, zombies and Gargantuans fell to their combined martial skills. As they drew closer to their destination, the Rogue burial ground, they began to encounter Telindhra's worst fear. Dead sisters in the Rogue order, raised to unlife by the Blood Raven's demonic power. Many a times she was forced to shoot down those who would have once been her brethren. It caused her no end of grief. Even so, it strengthened her resolve to do whatever necessary to end this tragedy, even if it cost her life.

And even if it meant taking orders from that low sellsword. Arc remained silent during the course of the journey. After the first encounter he did not give any her more orders. He knew it would just aggravate her and none were needed when they were forced into combat. Just as in the Den, their fighting styles blended seamlessly as Telindhra wreaked havoc on the enemy ranks from afar, while Arc flawlessly danced his deadly dance through any that managed to reach them. Telindhra had to admit that without him she may not have made it this far, and if she had, she wouldn't have made it to the Blood Raven.

Finally, Telindhra called a halt as they crested a hill to find the Rogue cemetery below them. "Well this is it. Do you have a plan, oh great leader." She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Arc pretended not to notice it. "Not really, nothing springs to mind. This Blood Raven, who is he?"

"Not he, a she. Blood Raven was the leader of the Rogues before Kashya. She was slain in the field of battle and has been raised by some demonic power. Since then she has organized an assault force on the Rogues, mainly by gathering the undead. However, her greatest sin is that she is raising the other fallen Rogues to use as her crack troops. Every day her force gets greater and greater until soon we will stand no chance and her undead will wash over the camp like a tidal wave. We must stop her now."

Arc was silent for a long time. "Her bastion is impregnable. Undead don't require food or rest, so they will be alert for intruders all the time. They will instantly detect us from the mere fact that we are alive. We will never get even close enough see her, let alone kill her."

"There may be a way, I guess." Telindhra said tentatively. "All Rogues have been trained in the use of the Waypoints."

"Waypoints?" Arc queried.

"They are flat stone squares in the ground engraved with magic symbols. You can travel from one to another if you know the proper rituals. There is one in the Rogue camp." Telindhra explained. Arc recalled the Waypoint he walked past and nodded.

"Sometimes, if they are close enough, you can travel to a specific person with a different ritual, so long as they are friendly to you."

"I'd hardly call the Blood Raven friendly, Telindhra. You do want to kill her, remember?" Arc pointed out.

"No, but in the graveyard there is a mausoleum that holds the remains of some of the legendary heroes of the Rogues. Perhaps I can transport us to their tomb. If the Blood Raven is raising Rogues, she will be in the graveyard just outside the mausoleum."

"So jump in, kill the bad Rogue, and jump back out, none the wiser?" Arc theorized.

"Not quite," Telindhra warned. "I can't get us out again."

"I see." Arc said. "Well, where is this Waypoint?"

"It is not too late for you to turn back, Arc. I can do the ritual on my own." Telindhra pointed out.

With a half-grin on his face, Arc replied, "I asked you a question, soldier. Where is this Waypoint?"

With a black stare, Telindhra turned around and stalked off.

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Within an hour, they were standing on the Waypoint. "Last chance, Arc. It's easy to travel back to the Rogue camp from here."

"No can do, not unless you come too." Arc stepped into the middle of the Waypoint. "So let's do this then."

Telindhra gathered some twigs and lit small fires on each of the small pyres set on opposite sides of the circle figured on the stone. Standing in the circle with Arc, she began chanting and inscribing sigils into the air in front of her. There was a blinding flash and a strange sensation of falling, then a sudden jolting halt.

Arc blinked away the bright afterglow in his eyes and looked around. They were in a dank cellar somewhere. In front of them was a large sarcophagus lying on a bier. "We made it." He breathed. He turned to Telindhra. "Why hasn't the Blood Raven raised these, if they are powerful Rogues."

"The protective magic for these chambers are strong. I guess she has not yet reached the power level to break the seals."

"_No, but we will soon!"_

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Telindhra and Arc whirled around. A group of eight Skeletal Warriors stood at the door, lead by a larger skeleton with a slightly red aura and wielding two swords. For a split second the two groups simply stared at one another. Then Telindhra drew an arrow and shot in a single fluid motion, shattering the skull of one and dropping it into a pile of bones. The Skeletons charged.

In another split second Arc's shield was on his arm and his sword in his hand as Telindhra shot another time, dropping another skele. She didn't get another chance though as the six remaining warriors, including the leader reached them. Arc charged ahead, shield first, drawing three of the skeletons and the leader to him, while the other two slid past to engage Telindhra.

Arc had yet to even launch an attack as he was busy fending off five swords slashing and bashing at him. He danced a dangerous dance of weaving and parrying, ducking slashes and warding off blows with short swings of his shield. It soon became clear that there was no way he could defeat all four enemies at once with sword work alone. "This is it. Time to reveal the secret weapon." He thought to himself as he blocked away both of the leader's swords with his own.

Arc cleared his mind, channeling his concentration inwards. It was a mark of how skilled he was that he could bring about the Opening Trance, a trance that required a vast deal of concentration, while still fighting off four enemies and protecting himself from harm. He directed his concentration inwards, towards his _chi,_ his life energy, and quickly started the manipulation required. Soon he had pulled his _chi_ together into the pattern he desired, a pattern that empowered his aura, allowing him to affect those around him. His enemies pulled back as they saw his aura begin to glow misty blue.

But they didn't pull back far enough. The aura shone it's light on them and encased their limbs in frost, slowing their movements. Only the leader was unaffected. In that instant, Arc's concentration snapped back to the task at hand and leapt to the attack. The three warriors who were before pressing the attack found themselves too slow to adequately defend themselves as he quickly dispatched them with two broad sweeping slashes.

Telindhra, in the meantime, was having difficulty fending off the other two skeletons.

Having opted for the second shot with the bow, she had not had enough time to draw her javelin and buckler. She had taken a few nicks and slashes in the opening attacks but now was holding her own, busy dodging slashes and thrusts, parrying attacks with her bow, waiting for the right moment to attack.

Suddenly, they were both bathed in a light blue light and both seemed to be covered in a cold frost. Confused, she backed away and looked around in confusion. The light seemed to be emanating from her companion. Not one to give away an advantage, she drew her javelin and sprung forward in attack.

The leader of the skeletons realized he had lost his advantage of numbers and was on the defensive as Arc charged forward, swinging his sword. The Leader was still a formidable warrior in his own right and leapt forward to meet his attack. Catching the attack on his left sword, he countered with a thrust with his right sword. Arc caught this attack on his shield and lashed out with a front kick, connecting with the skeleton's torso. Seeing his opponent off balance, Arc followed through with a low slash, slamming his blade into the skeletons right left knee, shattering the bone. Falling to his knees, the skeleton weaved his swords in a complicated pattern, warding off Arc's attacks with both shield and sword. Standing little more than arms length from each other, the two expert swordsman traded blows in rapid succession. While at an obvious disadvantage, the skeleton was still holding his own, beating off Arc's rapid attacks. However, this stalemate could not continue, both knew it.

Finally, the skeleton gambled it all on one last attack, swinging his left sword down low while thrusting his right sword towards Arc's belly. This left the skeleton's defence dangerously open, but it hoped it could kill the human as he in turn was killed. Arc was too quick however. Chopping down with his sword, Arc took the skeleton's left arm off before the sword came near him and knocked the sword thrust away with his shield. With his left side now useless, the skeleton had no way to defend against the sword swing that shattered it's skull.

Telindhra finished off the last skeleton with a javelin stab that shattered it's spinal cord, and turned to Arc. "How did you do that? Was it some kind of spell?" She asked Arc.

"Not really. It's an art I learned of controlling one's life energy to affect your aura." He answered. "You're wounded."

"Nothing really," she said. "Just some scratches."

"When we come at Blood Raven, we want to be at full strength. We will rest here a little."

"Any rest here will make little difference." She argued. "We should strike before Blood Raven has a chance to find we are here." She started to move.

"Just a little while. Stand still for a second." He closed his eyes and entered the Opening Trance again. Again his aura changed, to a different shade of blue. Immediately she felt the affect. Her pain was slowly lessening and she could feel her wounds noticibly getting better.

It was only a few minutes before her wounds were closed and she felt refreshed, like she had just woken from sleep. She began to ask him about his power again, but he cut her off. "Come on, now it is time."

Telindhra lead them out of the room and they headed towards the exit of the mausoleum. As they walked she felt Arc's aura changing again. "It will help shield us from harm."

They reached the entrance and peeked out. The Blood Raven was standing in the graveyard, her back to them. She was surrounded by a good number of her minions, too many for them to defeat at once. As they watched, the Blood Raven chanted in a powerful voice. The ground around her burst as corpses were being animated to become undead.

Arc silently motioned at Telindhra's bow, telling her to make the first attack. Telindhra nodded and whispered a ritual that enchanted her arrows with fire. She drew the string back, and a flaming arrow thudded into the Blood Raven's back. The Blood Raven staggered forward, then righted herself and turned towards them.

In a chilling voice, the Blood Raven spoke. _"You will join my army of the dead!"_ With a quick motion, her minions charged towards them.

Telindhra continued firing in rapid succession, felling a good number of the zombies shambling towards them. But still they came, a great number, and they obstructed her view of the Blood Raven, so they couldn't get a clear shot. Suddenly, the Blood Raven leapt out to the side from behind the zombie pack and fired an arrow straight at Telindhra. Quick as a flash, Arc's shield shot up to catch the arrow. "You try and get around to get Blood Raven, I'll occupy the zombies." With that, he charged the pack, hacking and slashing with precise cuts.

Telindhra rolled to the right under another arrow that Blood Raven had launched at her way. Coming up in a crouch she fired another shot at Blood Raven that cracked into her shoulder. Both began to launch shot in earnest, but both were concentrating a great deal more on dodging than shooting. Telindhra recognised the affect of Arc's aura, seeing that she was dodging the arrows faster than she ever had before.

Years of experience for the Blood Raven served her well as she shook off the lethargy of her initial surprise that allowed this young Rogue to land two hits early in the battle. Blood Raven weaved away from the arrows launched at her. But still she was amazed at the talent displayed by this young Rogue, far greater than any other talent she had seen in Rogues that young. None of Blood Raven's arrows seem to be able to hit the lithe young archer.

Despite the slowness of the zombies, Arc realized that he could not hold this up forever. Gone was his initial offensive and now he was forced to concentrate purely on defending as facing odds of perhaps twenty to one. He realized that he was slowly being forced back and soon he would be in Telindhra's way, effectively ending their attack, and indeed their lives.

Telindhra knew that they were in a stalemate and also knew time was their enemy. Already she could here the sounds of the Blood Raven's zombie armies approaching. Soon they would be surrounded and their attack would fail.

Diving away from another close arrow, she pulled four arrows simultaneously. Trying to break the stalemate, she shot four arrows simultaneously in at the Blood Raven. The Blood Raven predictable tried to dive away, but surprised by the multiple shot, caught another arrow in the right leg.

Arc swung a parry with his sword and missed. A zombie claw slashed deep across his torso and knocked him from his feet. Rolling backwards with the force of the blow, Arc came to his feet to stand next to Telindhra.

Enraged, the Blood Raven leapt to her feet. Being dead had it's advantages. The wound in the leg hampered her movement, but only a little and was not the crippling blow it would have been had she been alive. "Look around you!" She cried. Her forces had entered the graveyard and Telindhra and Arc were surrounded by almost a hundred zombies in a rough circle. "You have lost." Blood Raven laughed. "I will kill you slowly and raise you to fight for me. Perhaps, with your skill I may even make you captains in my army. I imagine Akara would be pleased to see you as you bury a shaft in her chest." She laughed mockingly.

Telindhra glanced at Arc nodded towards the Blood Raven's wounded leg. Arc understood.

Telindhra grabbed an arrow and launched it at Blood Raven. Predictably, Blood Raven dodged away from the arrow to her left, favoring her wounded leg. But she hadn't counted on the other projectile, Arc's sword spinning hilt over blade as it slammed into the Blood Raven's chest.

Blood Raven flew backwards to slam into the great tree standing in the middle of the graveyard. She fell to the ground screaming, as a storm of magical energy ripped out of her, flashing all across the graveyard. All the undead that Blood Raven had raised fell lifeless to the ground, their magical energy ripped out too, to join the storm.

Arc and Telindhra crouched together, shielding themselves from the storm. As the magical energy whipped around them, they were certain that soon their life would be ripped out too in the magical tumult.

But eventually the storm of magic died down until all was silent. Tentatively standing up, they saw that they were alone, among a virtual sea or rotting corpses. For a moment, they were silent in their amazement when they realized they weren't going to die.

Finally Arc spoke. "Well, that was unexpected . . ."

"Yeah." Telindhra agreed. "Kinda a good thing that happened, too."

Arc approached the corpse of the Blood Raven. His sword, he noticed, was a pile of twisted, burnt metal. He turned to his companion. "Well, I guess we go back to camp now. And Telindhra, if they give you a heroes welcome that's anything like the last one, I suggest you do the digging."

She grinned. "You can call me Telin now." She said.


	6. Chapter 05 Tree of Inifuss

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_CHAPTER 5 Tree of Inifuss_

Arc and Telin had had surprisingly little problem reaching the Waypoint and returning to the Rogue's camp. With the Blood Raven destroyed, many of the undead had simply fallen lifeless to the ground, and the remaining monsters had little desire to stay in such a concentrated group. Some had been assembled under a few of Blood Raven's more powerful lieutenants, while many had just scattered aimlessly. None of Blood Raven's lieutenants were powerful enough to raise a significant number of undead, and certainly not to raise the better protected passed Rogues, so they all left the vicinity of the Rogue graveyard. None were in the mood to tangle with those that had disposed of their powerful leader.

So Arc and Telin had reached the Waypoint with only a few minor skirmishes, and were now reclining comfortably in Akara's tent, relating their tale to the high priestess. The high priestess, and indeed, the entire camp had been amazed that the two had not only succeeded, but even returned alive and well. Now the camp was in celebration. For the moment, the immediate threat was passed, and while the evil ones were still rife in the land, there was no presence powerful enough to unite them to wipe out the Rogue camp.

"My part is done, Akara. Now it is your turn to fulfil your part of the bargain." Arc reminded the priestess. Akara nodded.

"What is this?" Telin questioned.

"We struck a bargain." Arc explained. "For my service in assisting you in your quest, your priestess would relinquish the information I will need to reach Tristram alive."

Telin snorted in amusement. "Handled like a true sellsword." The derision was still evident in her tone, but gone was the antagonism and anger, replaced now by a friendly, perhaps even playfully mocking tone.

"So you have performed you service, so will we give you your just reward." Akara agreed. "As we already told you, the way to Tristram is blocked, overrun with the forces of darkness. Even with your impressive skills, you would never reach the town alive. But there is an alternative. A secret way established long past."

"You speak of the Cairn Stones." Telin injected. At Arc's questioning glance, she explained. "In the place called the Stony Field, where we passed through to reach the burial ground, there are five obelisks, standing in a circle, called the Cairn Stones. They say that they were created long ago to provide quick magical access to neighboring towns in time of need."

"Yes." Akara said. "However, the correct ritual is lost to us. But if you pass through the Underground Passage located in the same place, you can reach the Cold Plain, which is the place of the Tree of Inifuss. There, with the proper ritual, you can generate a new ritual that can take you to Tristram."

"Sounds great." Arc said. "So how will I find these Cairn Stones, and this Tree?"

"That will be provided for when you leave."

"I leave tomorrow morning. Early," Arc said.

"Very well then." Akara nodded. "I will arrange it for you tonight."

Arc nodded, satisfied, then excused himself to take his leave. He would leave early tomorrow and so he would need sleep.

He slept restfully and rose just prior to dawn. He gathered his things and arranged his pack. Before he left, though he wanted to bid farewell to Telin. He probably wouldn't see her again. He wandered around the entire camp, searching for her, but she was nowhere to be found.

At the end of his circuit, he reached the Waypoint, he saw she was there already, with Kashya and Akara. Cursing himself for a fool, he realized she must have been waiting there for him to bid him farewell.

As he approached, Kashya greeted him. "Greetings, friend Arc. Know that you have earned my trust, and you will be forever welcome in the house of the Rogues." She bowed politely, and continued. "As promised, we have provided all the information you need. I have assigned one of my Rogues to accompany you, and act as your guide."

Telin grinned and winked at him.

Arc objected. "Really, that is unnecessary, I will be risking my life, and I do not wish to risk yours as well. I don't even know if I will ever head back in this direction after I reach Tristram."

Telin shook her head. "I owe you a debt Arc deQuester, and I decided that by taking this position it will help me begin to repay that debt. Even if it means serving under you again." She rolled her eyes.

Arc laughed. "Very well then."

"Before you go." Akara stopped him as he started to leave. "There is one other thing. Along with her assignment as guide, we have given Telindhra another. She is to accompany you to Tristram and find an Elder of that village named Deckard Cain, and ask him to return here with her. If you can, I ask that you assist her in her quest, as she assists you in yours."

Finally, Kashya presented Arc with a new long sword to replace his destroyed one in the battle with the Blood Raven. As Arc grasped the sword, the blade burst into flame. Experimentally swinging his new sword, Arc found that the sword was also enchanted with unbelievably balance and control. "This is a truly fine sword," he marveled, "and a rich gift indeed." He thanked the leaders of the Rogues, bowing his head.

"And a worthy gift for one such as yourself." Akara answered. "Go now, and may the gods bless your path."

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Arc and Telin crouched in the pitch darkness, waiting for the receeding footsteps to fade away. For hours they had stalked this cave, the Underground Passage that would lead then to the Dark Wood and the Tree of Inifuss. From the Waypoint they had soon arrived at the entrance of the cave, only to discover that the cave had been occupied by one of the former lieutenants of the Blood Raven. The Underground Passage was now a base of operations for the forces of darkness and was crawling with monsters.

Discarding the direct approach, Arc and Telin had opted for stealth, avoiding big confrontations and taking their time in silently wending their way through the passages. Already they had fought two small skirmishes with little difficulty, but in the main they were avoiding direct confrontation, relying on stealth. The latest group they had watched go by had been a large group of zombies and skeleton warriors. Some had walked dangerously close to the little cove that the two were crouching in, and Arc wondered how they could have possibly past them without hearing the thunderous thumping of his heart.

Despite all the anxiety and fear that came with this silent penetration of an enemy camp, Arc found himself grinning almost maniacally to Telin as they eased themselves out of their hiding spot. She grinned back and he could tell that she was enjoying it as much as he was. Though they were deep within the borders of the enemy's camp, the enemy seemed to be stretched out in small groups throughout the cave, and Arc was confident that even if they were discovered they would have no difficulty dispatching any who got in their way.

Bringing their light radius enchantments back into effect the two pressed on. From the slope in the cave floor Arc guessed that they were heading towards a cave opening and were reaching the end of their underground trek.

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Blinking in the sudden light, Arc exited the cave, followed by Telin. They had quickly dispatched the group of over a dozen skeletons and Fallen that had guarded the cave exit. Between Telin's arrows and Arc's quick charge they had killed a large part of the group before they had a chance to react and ready themselves for combat, and then it was a simple battle that was fiercely one sided due to the skill of the Rogue and swordsman.

Wasting no time, they traveled to the east for about half and hour, until a huge tree could be seen in the distance. "Keep your eye's peeled, something doesn't feel right," Arc cautioned Telin as they approached the tree.

Nodding her head, she drew an arrow and drew it into the bow, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

The tree stood in a small clearing, surrounded by a thin forest of dying trees. Arc and Telin were making their way through one of the paths that lead to the center, and the Tree of Inifuss, when they both stopped simultaneously. Glancing at each other, they both were trying hard to suppress a laugh of disbelief. Perching in many of the trees surrounding the clearing were Fallen ones, obviously lying in wait, setting a crude trap for anyone coming to the Tree. Even more amusing was all were busily watching the tree, and none were watching the paths.

Wanting to end that farce quickly and retrieve the scroll which they had come for, Arc silently eased his shield from his back and slipped it onto his left arm while Telindhra took aim and sent a shaft into the back of the nearest Fallen. Giving a cry of surprise, it fell from the tree, and struck the ground at bone crunching speed, ending its deathcry as abruptly as it began.

All the closest Fallen tried to twist around to find their attacker whilst keeping their balance and not falling to their death. These Fallen made easy targets for Telin's skilful bow work and almost a half a dozen more had been shafted before the rest started to climb down to face their attacker.

"Almost too easy," Telin laughed gaily at the comical scene of the incompetent Fallen struggling to muster a force to confront them.

Suddenly, a decomposing arm burst from the ground at her feet. Biting back a shriek, Telin leapt back. More arms began to burst from the ground all around them, some still decomposing, others skeletal. The arms were followed by heads, torsos and eventually entire bodies, as a rough circle of zombies and skeletons were rising around them. Arc cursed himself for falling for such a trick. The Fallen in the trees were obviously a feint, bait for the confident warriors to snatch in their eagerness to win the prize. A trap within a trap.

Despite Telin's quick bow work and Arc's sword play, more than a score of monsters had risen to surround them in a circle. In the clearing, three Skeleton champions had risen and were ordering their minions to close in on the heroes and dispatch them.

Both Arc and Telin knew that their only chance was to break away from the circle quickly. Surrounded like this with such overwhelming odds, they stood little chance to come out of this alive. Arc surged forward, his shield leading. No time for finesse, he slammed shield first into a skeleton, knocking it to the ground, than brought his sword in a huge arc to strike a zombie, cutting a huge diagonal slash from shoulder to opposing hip. Telin followed up backwards, shooting with multiple arrows as fast as possible in an effort to keep the rest of the monsters back.

Arc knew that from that point he could have broken out of the circle, but not without abandoning Telin's back to the other monsters. So he danced left and right, catching attacks on one side with his shield while attacking furiously with his sword on the other side. He had no time to defend with his sword so he attacked outright, often trading wounds with monsters. Telin managed to hold the monsters off just long enough for Arc to knock down enough on his right to open a small hole. Grabbing Telin, he practically dove through the gap in the circle and came up to his feet.

Though they were out of the circle, things still looked bleak. In the few seconds it had taken for Arc to fight open a gap for them to escape, he had taken four hits to his sword side, one on the arm that was bleeding profusely, and another near his ribs that was aching like the devil and would restrict his movement.

The monsters, however had only lost about half a dozen of their number, with more than a score advancing on the Rogue and swordsman, including a trio of Skeleton champions that had made their way to the front of the pack.

Arc and Telin locked stares with the Champions. An unspoken communication passed between the two adversary groups, as they acknowledged that the monsters would probably slay the two, but not before Arc and Telin would kill as many of the monsters as they could.

Now the groups were barely two sword lengths away. The central Champion raised his sword high in the air, ready to bring it down in a signal to attack.

Only to have the sword fly off, as the skeleton's arm was disconnected from the shoulder by a flying, thrown axe, that continued to bury itself in the chest of an unfortunate zombie that was standing behind.

Everyone jumped back, from Arc and Telin to the monsters, as another axe hammered into the wounded champion's skull. As the champion crumbled, all eyes were drawn to the source of the mysterious throwing axe.

A lone figure stood on the path. Towering more than seven feet in height and powerfully muscled, the figure discarded his last throwing axe in contempt and drew instead another melee axe with his right hand. The blue tattoos that marked his face and arms showed him to be a Barbarian, as they are the mark of the tribe and clan he belonged to. This one was larger, than the small throwing axes, being used for hand to had battle. Then with his other hand, he drew forth a wickedly spiked mace.

Giving a piercing warcry, the Barbarian charged the hoard, unmindful of the odds and seemingly oblivious to the surprised Arc and Telin.

Not one to pass up an opportunity, Arc opened his consciousness to the Opening Trance and brought forth an Aura that would increase the fighting power of his companions, and charged into battle next to the huge barbarian. Telin began drawing arrows and started shooting down any enemies that tried to work their way around the two fighters, either to flank them or to attack her.

Monsters, who seconds before were eager and confident for a fight, now found they had little taste for this battle. Arc had fallen in to the right of the huge Barbarian, and together they created a semicircle of destruction that few monsters could penetrate. The Barbarian could wield both his weapons simultaneously with ease, and while he could attack to his right with his axe, Arc's shield on his left could catch any attacks that slipped past the Barbarian's axe. Any thing that approached could be guaranteed that they would not get by unscathed.

These monsters were undead, however, and were unafraid of physical damage. They pressed in ruthlessly, lead by the two skeleton Champions. Arc's perfect sword technique, the Barbarian's unmatched raw power, Telindhra's arrows unerringly finding enemy targets, all backed up by the power of Arc's offensive Aura, combined were taking it's toll on the ranks of the enemy. However, pure numbers, added with the skill of the Champions, weaving in and out of the monster's ranks, striking and engaging with fine precision at all the weak points in the fighter's front, were beginning to take their toll too. For each monster the two fighters downed, a scratch, a small cut, a painful bruise or a bleeding wound would be inflicted on the warriors, each more serious than the last.

Soon, though the monster's numbers were seriously depleted, the fighters were purely on the defensive. As they were pushed back, step by step, they maneuvered their weapons with all the speed they could muster to block and parry away the multiple strikes and attacks the remaining rank of monsters pushed at them. The undead had already learned not to attempt to get past the fighters for fear of the inevitable arrow, and were concentrating all their numbers on beating the fighters down. Telin, bereft of a possible target, backed away nervously, nocking an arrow in the event one of the fighters got cut down, fiercely hoping she wouldn't have to fire it.

It was clear that they had lost their original offensive push and wouldn't get out alive if they didn't get it back. Both Arc and the Barbarian knew it, and knew they both were aware of it. The Barbarian mustered up all his hidden power gave out a fierce, keening warcry, imbued with all the fey power he could instill in it. The monsters leapt back filled with horror that surpassed even being dead. For an instant they hesitated, pushed back in an instinctive urge to flee. Only an instant before their natural evil nature overrode it and they surged forward again.

But this instant was enough. Both Arc and the Barbarian surged forward to engage pockets of warriors independently. Telin instantly started off a stream of arrows passing in between the two. From a rank and file battle, with that cry it had become chaotic as each warrior broke off from each other to kill as many monsters as they could by themselves.

Arc charged in at two skeleton warriors and a Champion, his shield parrying blows and his sword waving back and forth at breakneck speed, delivering precise head high slashes that put all three monsters back on their heels, forcing them to concentrate purely on defense.

Still almost running, Arc suddenly spun and crouched on his heel, delivering a horizontal slash that cut two spinal cords and, breaking the two warriors into two. Still spinning, he blocked a savage sword midthrust with his shield and launched into a spinning jump cresent kick that knocked the skeleton to it's knees, and completed the spin with a backhand diagonal slash that reduced the skeleton's torso to a dusty ruin.

The other champion was moving to take Arc in the back during his furious attack, but changed it's mind as it took a fiery enchanted arrow in the back. It spun, just in time to catch another arrow in the right shoulder. The next arrow, though, it caught in it's shield, as with the next as it charged Telin with it's sword raised.

Telin calmly paused in her shooting, and froze, her arrow fletching resting on her cheek, her arrow ready to release at any moment. She waited. The charging skeleton champion drew closer, and just as it came within sword range, drew back it's shoulder for a fraction of an instant, ready to pound it into her as she came in range. In that instant, she fired, knowing that the skeleton would be unable to move the shield fast enough to fully cover itself. The arrow slammed exactly into the right shoulder joint, knocking the arm clean off. The Champion faltered, its charge momentum ended with the arrow slamming into it, removing the arm. Then Telin leapt forward, her left arm swinging her bow while her right grabbed her next arrow. The Skeleton, off balance, in one instant found it's shield in it's left being knocked far wide by a swinging bow, the next instant standing defenseless, staring down an arrow shaft point blank aimed at his head.

"Bad luck," Telin said, and let fly with the arrow, which was less than a foot away from the Champion's head.

With the Champions dealt with, the rest was merely mopping up the remainder. The Barbarian had been given no trouble in the direction he had charged off in, his axe and mace easily hacking and bludgeoning through the off guard ranks of mainly zombies. Now, without the champion's influence, the monsters were confused and could not muster a coherent offensive, remaining scattered. The three companions, however, came together, sensing victory was near, and easily cut down the remainders.

With all opponents lying face down, the three knew it was time to find out who was who. Arc and Telin stood facing the large warrior, weapons lowered but not put away. The Barbarian similarly stood, but wary of any sudden movements. Arc was appreciative of the Barbarian's help, indeed for saving their lives, but he was also a fearsome looking person, and the tales of the wild, uncultured and often unlawful Barbarian tribes made one wary of huge fur clad warriors.

Suddenly, the Barbarian slammed his weapons into the ground to shake the blood and gore from them. Both weapons stood by themselves, an attest to the power of the man who buried both weapons, even the spiked mace, deep enough into the dirt to allow them to stand. Arc and Telin jumped back, weapons on the ready.

The Barbarian stretched, loosening his muscles. "A worthy battle," he noted.

"It was indeed. Many thanks for your courage and prowess." Arc replied, slowly lowering his blade. Telin, however, still did not lower her bow. "We owe you our lives, and are in your debt."

"It is the duty of all warriors to battle the forces of darkness where they may." The Barbarian replied, grinning. "We should share camp. It is good for warriors who had shared battle to eat together and speak of glories."

"Indeed. You are welcome to share our camp and our meal tonight, my friend. I am Arc." Arc said and bowed, extending his hand.

"Greetings friend Arc." The Barbarian replied, taking the offered hand and shaking it vigorously. "I am Jorg of the Tu'Kyon tribe, of the Ar'Heyen clan."

Telin lowered her bow and said. "I am Telindhra, of the Rogues."

Jorg grinned. "You are his shield-mate?" he asked.

Telindhra glared. "No" she denied forcefully. She turned to head towards the clearing.

Jorg grinned again and leaned towards Arc "You should ask for her. She is a fine warrior." He advised in a low, conspiratory tone.

Telin's gaze snapped back. "Let's just get what we came for, ok Arc?" She stalked off to the sound of Arc and Jorg laughing together.


	7. Chapter 06 Tristram

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_CHAPTER 6 Tristram_

Telin had performed the ritual on the Tree of Inifuss that would yield a scroll detailing how to open the portal to Tristram from the Cairn Stones. From there the now three companions had traveled to the Waypoint located near the Tree and traveled back to the Stony Field. "So why did we go through the cave when we could have used this that to go directly to the tree?" Arc had asked Telin, amused.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in disgust, "I can't use a Waypoint unless I know the runic inscription on the stone. I don't know the pattern on the one in the Dark Wood because I have never been there. You must really think I'm stupid, don't you?" she replied in a playfully annoyed tone.

Despite Jorg the Barbarian's suggestion of "sharing meat and past glories" none of them had the strength for it as all were exhausted from the day's fighting.

Having eaten their fill of some birds that Telin had shot down earlier that day, they were exchanging stories of recent events. Arc was telling Jorg of how he came to the Rogue camp, his meeting Telindhra, their battle at the Den of Evil, their defeat of the Blood Raven and now their quest to reach Tristram.

Jorg the Barbarian listened and nodded, occasionally asking questions. When Arc had finished, he nodded his approval. "Your tale is good, and your actions are honorable. Now your talking is done and it is my turn to tell you why I am here."

Arc nodded and he and Telin leaned back to listen.

"When I was younger, my Father left the tribe to travel East. A powerful man of honor in the East wished to hire our tribe for military services. We are an honorable clan, and we would not agree to fight before we knew what we would fight for, so my father left first to find out more. He carried a message to this powerful man explaining his visit.

"My father never reached his destination. Only the message somehow made it to the man, who sent his own message back. We knew this meant my father was dead."

"Now, many years later, I am a true warrior of my tribe. I have gained much honor and fought many battles. I have made wealth in plunder and my name is sung in the history of my people as a worthy warrior. I have earned the right, in the sight of man and gods, to travel in my father's footsteps, avenge his death and claim my birthright. I seek the axe of my father, called the _Chieftain_. It is a legendary weapon, gifted with potent magic, and has seen the death of many minions of evil. I will find it and vengeance for my father long dead."

"So where will your search begin? Arc asked.

"It already has. In one of my father's last letters, he described passing a place called the Forgotten Tower. It is further East of here. Legend has it that a demon in a woman's form resides there, called the Countess."

"Perhaps she is the one who overcame your father," Arc reasoned. "Seeing as you saved our life, friend Jorg, then we shall aid you in your quest to defeat the Countess and learn if it was she who slew your father."

"Many thanks, friend Arc, but unnecessary." Jorg said, smiling. "I killed her already. Yesterday. It wasn't her."

"Oh." Arc said, a bit lost for words. "umm, that's too bad." Embarrassed, Arc continued the conversation. "So then where will you go?"

"I plan to head further East. After here he planned to travel to Lut Gholien. But I hear that the road is blocked by evil. I must find a way through the evil first. But I do not know how."

"Perhaps you should consult the Rogues." Telindhra suggested. "This land is ours and we know it better than any. If any would know a way through, it would be Akara, or Kashya."

"Yes, that is good. They say that this evil is the work of Diablo, risen from his slumber to walk the world again. They say he rose from the town of Tristram. I will accompany you first. Perhaps if I know more of this evil, then I may be able to find a way through it, or perhaps even stop it."

Arc smiled. "You would be welcome to join us, Jorg." Arc stood, stretched and yawned. The others followed suit and they bid each other good night.

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The next day found them standing within the circle of the Cairn Stones. The stone obelisks stood towering over all of them, about twenty feet high each. On each were engraved a different rune. Telin drew forth the scroll and began chanting the ritual, and also walked to each stone and touched each rune in order. When she was finished, great magical power was released, reminding both Arc and Telin of the magical power that flowed from Blood Raven at her second death. As the magic flashed around them and leapt up from the crests of the stones into the sky, an oval portal of flowing orange light opened in the center of the stones. The three exchanged worried looks, then hesitantly walked through.

The smell of charred wood and the sweet scent of roasted flesh greeted the party. Arc was forcedly reminded of the burnt inn that he had seen before reaching the Rogue camp. For a short while the brightness of the portal as they stepped through left them a bit blinded, but before Arc could see properly he already knew what had happened.

Tristram was dead. It was clear that the town had been razed. From the smell, few, if any escaped the blaze. The town that had survived the Lord of Terror himself rising from beneath their feet now lay gutted and broken. It was irony of the worst fashion.

"Looks like maybe I won't be able to speak to this Deckard Cain after all." Telin said soberly.

Arc nodded, horrified. There was nothing he could say, words could not be forced past the lump in his throat. He felt a broad hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Jorg looking down at him. "Come friend. Perhaps there are survivors that we may help."

As they approached the wreckage of the town, they heard the familiar maniacal cackle, and the sound of bones unnaturally clacking together. Fallen Ones. Skeletons. Savagely, Arc ripped his shield from his back, drew his sword and attacked.

Telindhra was frightened. She had never seen Arc fight so. Always before he had been cool, calm and collected. All moves he made were strategically placed to minimize danger. Always he fought with his companions in consideration. He had always hung back before, allowing her free reign with her bow and to try to keep her from hand to hand combat, where she was weaker.

But not now. Now he threw himself into battle with abandon. His sword strokes, once so smooth and precise, the attacks and defense of a master, were now harsh, wild. Attacks not fueled by practice and mastery, but by fury and anger. By despair.

She drew arrow after arrow and downed many monsters, but with Arc giving in to the call of battle, and the Barbarian also throwing himself in with abandon, she had to pick her shots with care.

Now all the skeletons were piles of bones, and the Fallen began to flee into the town. Arc gave a roar in protest and began to chase them.

Telin called him to stop, and even the Barbarian caught in the blood lust, shouted for him to come back. They exchanged glances, and then moved to follow. Both knew that running into an unexplored town recently destroyed by the forces of evil, where anything at all could still be there, was foolishness of the worst kind, and that following him would be falling into the same trap that he fell into. But they could not abandon him.

Wary, weapons at the ready, the jogged together, following Arc. Rounding a corner, they came to the town square. Or what was left of it. In the center, Arc was engaged in a hopeless battle, surrounded with dark, powerful satyr-like creatures. Telindhra recognized the Goatmen demons, having heard them described by the veteran Rogues who had served at Tristram against Diablo's previous incarnation. Somehow Arc had managed to bring up another of those curious Auras, one that danced with fire and burned any that came to close. But regardless, his enemies pressed in close. The fact that he wasn't dead from a mace smashed into his back attested to his sheer brilliance with the sword, constantly spinning and weaving between foes, ducking and swinging his shield to parry blows and sometimes to smash offguard opponents.

His sword, however, was not devoted to defence, as it probably should have been. It was clear from the frozen mask of hatred and fury on his face that he was giving little thought to defence at the moment. His sword dealt out death to all those that stood in his way. Dozens of bodies with cut throats, severed limbs and head and gaping wounds attested to the deadliness of his dance.

With no time to spare, Telindhra started to launch off a steady stream of arrows at the crowd of enemies that had gathered around Arc. Some of the goatmen died, others turned to charge at the newcomers. Jorg let off a huge warcry and rushed to meet them.

Telin was so busy concentrating on firing and in muttering the rituals to enchant her arrows for power that she almost didn't notice the voice. Even when she did she was too busy to answer. Finally, it came to her what it was saying.

"It is hopeless! You must stop! I can get us out of here."

She turned to the source of the voice. Suspended in a cage in the center of the square was an old man. He was reaching out of the cage and shouting. "Quickly! Free me!"

Without moving she loosed an arrow that severed the line that was holding the cage aloft. With another arrow, one enchanted with cold, she hit the large padlock holding the gate shut. The lock and some of the nearby bars froze. The old man leant back and slammed the door with his shoulder. Though the lock did not crack, the frozen wood of the door shattered and swung open.

Telin resumed her firing on the enemy. More and more were pouring in to the square and Jorg was having trouble keeping the greater numbers from her.

The old man joined her. "Quickly, we must get to my house! I have a portal scroll there." The old man dragged at her and she followed backwards, still firing her bow, calling for Jorg and Arc. Jorg heard her and understood, and was attempting to back away in the direction of the cottage. Arc gave no indication that he heard.

Suddenly, she heard the old man gasp. Whirling, she saw they were standing face to face with the biggest zombie she had ever seen. He was also newly dead, so still fairly spry. The old man face paled. "Griswold! My old friend!"

The zombie grinned, baring blackened teeth and gums, and raised its powerful arm. Pulling the old man back and behind her, she fired point blank into it's chest, enchanting it with her most powerful ritual, the explosion of the arrow knocked Griswold back and her and the old man from their feet. Regaining her feet, she helped the old man up.

Griswold was again advancing. To make matters worse, Goatmen and skeletons were leaping off nearby roofs, ones that were still stable, that is, to land near her and her friends. Again she began firing, burying arrows in any enemy that came too close. But she could only hold them off for too so long. They began to close and she abandoned the arrows, pulling her javelin. Griswold loomed close, and they were surrounded.

The old man was panting, physically exhausted from his ordeal in the cage. But he drew himself up as tall as he could and began chanting an incantation. Though he was an old man, Telin saw that visage of a powerful sorcerer in his face.

A ring of pure power exploded from him and slammed into the circle of enemies, knocking them back. All fell to their feet, except Griswold. For the Zombie the old man brought forth a Fireball that slammed him in the chest. "Go" he commanded and started to run to the cottage.

But after a few steps it was clear the old man had expended too much power. He almost fell to the ground, but Telin caught him. Discarding her javelin, she draped him over her shoulder and half carried, half dragged him to the cottage. A Goatman dropped from the roof to right in front of her, right before the door, and she almost cried out in despair, raging against an unfair world that left her so close, yet so far.

The goatman snarled and slashed at her, but she dodged back, the mace missing her chest by a finger's breadth. But as the monster attacked again, a shape leapt in front of her and parried the blow. Arc caught it on his shield and brought his sword in for a fierce overhand chop that halved the goatman's skull. Kicking the corpse out of the way, he spun and motioned her to get going. Jorg was following, fighting a rearguard action, and together they once again stood side by side, this time outside the door of the cottage.

The old man stumbled to the burnt desk loudly praying to the gods that the contents of his drawer remained intact. It was. He opened the drawer and drew forth a scroll.

A Goatman threw himself in through the window, and out of reflex rather than actual conscious thought Telin drew and shot the monster mid flight. "Quick old man!" She shouted to him the runic call phrase that would generate the portal in the Rogue camp.

The old man nodded as the Rogue continually shot through the window, killing all those trying to get in through there, and occasionally launching shots through the door to help the two fighters two.

A blue light flashed an a portal opened in the corner of the room. Just before the old man shuffled through, she called. "Find Kashya! Warn her to defend the portal!"

A flying Jorg, launched by a powerful swing from the zombie Griswold, came crashing into the wall next to her as the old man came through. Arc dove back to avoid a similar fate and rolled up next to her. Jorg groggily got up and stood to her left.

"We must delay them for as a while before we go through. If Kashya's unprepared, these could massacre the entire camp!" Telin shouted. Arc nodded, and Jorg agreed, their faces resolved.

Arc looked inwards, passed the pain of the many wounds he had taken and the mental wound of finding Tristram in this state. He looked past his fatigue, his pain and cleared his thoughts, opening himself to the Trance. His aura shifted to a familiar blue. Griswold and the other monsters entering the cottage were struck with a frosting cold, slowing them slightly. "That should help a little." Arc said grimly as he and Jorg advanced.

The smallness of the cottage worked in their favour. With the three of them in there, swinging their weapons in wide arcs, there was little room for the enemy to fit in. However, this advantage was countered by the sheer power of Griswold, a power that made him all the more dangerous in the small area, with restricted room to dodge out of his way. And for every Goatman or Skeleton that was chopped, smashed or arrowed, there were three of four pushing to get in. Soon Telin was backed almost straight up to portal, squeezed behind Arc and Jorg, knocking elbows while parrying and blocking blows.

Suddenly, Telindhra heard something. In all the noise of the battle, clashing of swords, shouting of her comrades and enemies alike, she had not noticed this faint voice. It was the voice of Kashya, coming through the portal. "We're in place! We are in place!"

Throwing her bow through the portal, Telindhra grabbed a fistful of arrows. "Get ready to jump back through the Portal!" She tried to whisper into the ears of Arc and Jorg, but ended up with a low yell effect.

Not checking to see if they had noticed, she began the explosive arrow ritual. Pouring as much spiritual power into it as possible, she did it twice, she hoped to make sure that she got them all.

"Now!" She yelled as she threw them down at the feet of Griswold.

The force of the explosions rocked the cottage and threw the already leaping back trio straight through the portal and another ten feet besides.

"Stay down!" They heard Kashya yelled. No argument there, thought Telin as she groaned and rolled onto her back.

She looked around and saw a rank of Rogues three lines deep in the camp, each with a bow aimed at the portal. She watched as Griswold stepped through the portal. A hundred shafts flew from the bow to slam into the great zombie, or past him into the portal. The giant zombie crumbled to his knees and fell heavily to the ground.

Then the portal started to spew forth monsters. Zombies, goatmen, skeletons and fallen. All poured through the portal, faster than anyone would have thought possible. Shaft after shaft was loosed at the horde, but it seemed that every shaft traveled that slightly less distance. Some monsters escaped the storm of arrows and ran to the sides, or away from the bank of archers covering the portal. Fighting erupted within the camp as other Rogues, or swordsmen engaged the monsters. Telin crawled to her bow and added the sound of her own bow to the orchestra of strings. Jorg and Arc rolled out of the line of fire and leapt up to engage to monsters running amok.

However, eventually the line of monsters began to slow, and abruptly stopped. When the flow of monsters stopped, the old man, now leaning on a gnarled staff of oak, spoke a phrase in a commanding voice and the portal disappeared.

Hundreds of monsters had rushed through that portal and into the arms of death, and with only a few casualties to the Rogues. A great cheer erupted from the Rogues, who had again scored an important victory against the forces of darkness that had been ruthlessly pushing them back for a long time now.

Telindhra got up and approached Akara, who was standing with Kashya and the old man from Tristram. She bowed. "Greetings High Priestess. I have returned from the mission that you had assigned me. As to the result of the mission, I may have failed," She turned and looked the old man in the face, "However, I think not."

The old man smiled, and said "You are brave, fight well, and have quick instincts and wit. As you have guessed, I am Deckard Cain."


	8. Chapter 07 Information

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_CHAPTER 7 Information_

Arc sat cross-legged at the campfire, his chin resting on his laced fingers, his eyes engrossed in the fire. To his left, Jorg and Telin reclined together chatting, Jorg still holding a roasted chicken leg. Arc brooded, deep in thought. He had managed to reach Tristram, impossibly, and he still hadn't found what he had been looking for. The burnt out wreckage of a town held none of the answers he sought. He tried to rationalize to himself that he had always thought possible, even expected that this would happened, that there would be nothing in Tristram worth anything to him, but it seemed that his hopes had painted a false illusion for him.

He had had such hopes that Tristram would be the end of the road for him, that he could put his worries to rest there, that these hopes started to become reality for him. He had imagined the positive outcome of reaching the town so much that he knew no negative outcome. To have this suddenly come . . . he didn't know what to do now.

Had Arc turned his head or looked at anything other than the fire, he would have noticed that his companions glanced his way with worried looks every so often. Telindhra's eyes, especially, were constantly drawn to the silent swordsman.

A tap on his shoulder broke Arc's reverie. There stood Deckard Cain, who had tapped him with his staff, and behind him stood Akara, high priestess of the Rogues. Cain motioned for him to stand and follow him. Intrigued, Arc stood to follow the old man as they walked.

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"Where are they going?" Jorg asked Akara, motioning the old man and the young swordsman as the walked off into the night.

"Arc has been trying to make his way to Tristram for a while now. Tristram is destroyed. Now his only link to that which he seeks is that old man." Akara answered. "Perhaps he has what is sought."

Jorg shrugged, and nodded. He knew well that a man's secrets were his own. "So what's this all been about then?"

"What do you mean?" Akara asked.

Telindhra laughed. "We have been discussing it. Apparently Jorg likes to know why when he risks his life. Nothing at all like the stories we get of Barbarians. I was under the impression you didn't even need reasons, let alone know them."

Grinning, Jorg said, "True, it's usually Arc's kind that need reasons and meanings for everything."

"What do you mean?" Telin asked, intrigued.

"Well, you know," Jorg said with a shrug, "What is the meaning of life, for existence? All that stuff. What is the nature of evil and good? Not to mention the vaunted Creed to live by 'No weapon drawn in anger, no life taken lightly, no judgement made untruly, always to serve, now and forever'"

Telindhra's face was still incomprehensive. With a puzzled glance, Jorg continued, "You have never heard it? It is the Creed of the Paladins"

Telindhra's eyes went wide with shock. "A Paladin? Are you sure?" The Paladins were a small sect of warrior-monks famed for their religious zeal and their adherence to a strict code of honor. They were also famous for their mystical practices, claiming that through practicing advanced meditation combined with religious insight, they were able to harness the power of their own life energy to serve themselves and effect those around them.

"Paladins are the only ones who use Auras like him." Jorg shrugged. "Even tribes people such as I have heard of them. I'm surprised you haven not.

"Of course I've heard of them" Telindhra retorted. She turned to Akara "Did you know about this?"

"I suspected." Akara said serenely, ignoring Telindhra's furious glare. "I suspected from the description of the Auras he used in battle. But I could not be certain that it was not just a spell. And his privacy is his own."

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"I know who you are." Deckard Cain stated. He kept walking, face serenely forward as Arc stopped walking in shock.

"You do? So then you know . . ." Arc said as he stepped quickly to catch up.

"Yes, I do. And I have the information that you must be looking for." Deckard Cain stopped, and hesitated in continuing.

Arc came to stand in front of him. Grasping the old man by the shoulders, he said "Tell me. Please."

"Very well. This news, however, will not be good . . ."

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Telindhra sat, slightly shaking her head in disbelief, "And to think of all the times I called him a lowdown sellsword . . . "

At the sound of footsteps, they all looked up. Arc was stalking passed the campfire and into the night, his face a stony mask, barely covering the pain within.

rom the other direction, Deckard Cain approached. "Leave him be. He will need time to absorb it." Sitting down by the fire, he said. "You should all get some rest. We," he indicated Akara and himself, "will not share what we discussed and decided tonight. We shall wait until morning, with Arc present. It will concern him to."

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Arc stood on the crude wooden battlement of the camp, leaning on the lip of the wall, staring out over the plains. At the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, he turned and started away.

"Wait." Telin called. Arc slowed for a second, then started walking off faster. "Arc, wait, please." This time he slowed. He turned, and again started staring at the plains.

She walked up, and leant out beside him. They were silent for a long time. "Are you alright?" She asked cautiously.

There was a pause before he answered. "I'm fine." He said, his voice wavering slightly.

She nodded. "Was it . . . a girl? In Tristram?" There was another long pause before he shook his head. "Family." He replied.

She nodded again, her heart going out to him. Again they stood together for a long time, just silent.

Finally she couldn't help it. "So you really are a paladin then." It was a statement, not a question.

He nodded a yes. "Huh." She said. There was another long pause before. "So all those lowdown mercenary things were really kinda offensive then."

He snorted. Then he started to laugh. It started as a normal chuckle, then moved into a laugh. Then it became hysterical before moving into tears. She turned him around and hugged him fiercely, giving all the comfort she could.

Finally, they disengaged, and she knew she had to leave him alone. He needed time to figure things out for himself.

After she had left, Arc stood there and just thought. Soon he knew what he had to do.

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The next morning they all assembled in Akara's tent. Arc's eyes were a little red, but he looked eager to listen and hear what would be the Rogues' next move.

Deckard Cain started his tale. "Tristram was an ordinary town for a long time. The people were ordinary, and it was a quiet place where little of import happened. Not too long ago, though, things started getting worse. Evil doings began to occur. People started fearing things, each other. Something was wrong. Diablo, Lord of Terror, Third of the Prime Evils, trapped within a Soul Stone in the labyrinth under the town, had begun to stretch out his evil presence to the town. Even the King, Leoric, fell under the spell."

"When we thought all was lost, a Hero arrived from the east. He called himself Fionor. The Hero ventured down the labyrinth, defeating Diablo's minions, one after the other, until finally he confronted the Lord of Terror himself."

Cain paused him his story, looking over each of the people within the tent, from Arc to Kashya. "He defeated him."

There was disbelief throughout the tent at this statement. "He defeated Diablo himself?" Jorg asked. Cain nodded.

Furrowing her brow, Kashya ventured. "So Diablo is dead then? He killed Diablo?"

"No." Cain answered, shaking his head sadly. "Diablo's essence is forever trapped within the Soul Stone. Killing his body will only destroy the current incarnation. The spirit of Diablo will live on."

"And so it was, he had defeated Diablo, yet the Soul Stone was still there, and the Hero Fionor could feel his evil spreading. So he did the only thing he could."

There was another pause as Cain sighed in sorrow. "He embedded the Soul Stone in his own forehead." The shock was palpable within the tent. "In order to attempt to stop the evil from spreading and consuming the town, he took the evil within himself, hoping he could stem the spread long enough for us to find a way to destroy the Stone, and Diablo with it."

"So where is he now?" Telindhra asked.

"He is gone. Soon after defeating Diablo, during our celebrations, he vanished. I can only assume based on our conversations prior to this, that he has left, heading East to search the civilized world for a way to destroy the demon that has already begun infesting his own soul."

"He's losing then," Kashya stated bluntly. "He has become the Dark Wanderer, the man who has evil travelling in his footsteps. Diablo has risen again, this time wearing the face of he who slew him."

Cain nodded his head in agreement. "That is what I fear."

"My course is clear." Arc said. All heads turned towards him. For most, this was the first words they had heard him speak since Tristram. "I will . . . I must follow this Dark Wanderer. And I will kill him. For the sake of his own soul, and ours."

"You say he heads east?" Jorg asked, "My course, too lies East, towards Lut Gholien. So my path will lie with yours, friend Arc, at least until then."

"I'm going with you too." Telindhra volunteered. Arc looked at her. "What of your duties as a Rogue?"

"For the moment her duties as a Rogue coincide with your intentions." Akara said.

"Indeed." Agreed Cain. "Whether the Hero has become Diablo, or if the soul of the demon works independently with the Fionor, Diablo had left someone to guard his back. You will not be able to follow him until you defeat Andariel, the demoness that Diablo had stationed to guard the roads to the East. She is also the source of much of the evil here."

"Fine." Arc agreed coldly. "We kill Andariel, then we follow the Dark Wanderer."


	9. Chapter 08 The Malus

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_CHAPTER 8 The Malus_

For a hundred years and more the Monastery of the Rogues had remained a place of quiet. The Monastery was a place of learning and worship, where young acolytes and sisters of the faith were housed to complete their studies or their contemplation in peace and often silence. It had also been a haven for any Sisters of the Sightless Eye who wished to be away from the hustle and bustle of their duties. Lately it had been overcome by a brief time of nightmarish noise, the sounds of demons and undead stalking the halls, slaying all who inhabited the ancient walls. But that time was already over, and the Monastery had once again lapsed into its silent vigil, although this time different types of inhabitants stalked the halls. Perhaps it was the will of the huge Cathedral, or perhaps the monsters, their desire for blood satiated, had lapsed into a restful state, but to the casual outside observer, the Monastery had maintained it's tradition of quiet.

The silence was her ally. She stalked the halls, spilling the blood of all she encountered. Using the skills learnt from her people, her way of life, her very heritage, she hunted. Only now, the hunting ground was a jungle of corridors and fluted columns, her prey was evil, and she was driven by the hunger for vengeance rather than food. Yes, she thought, drawing closer to her latest targets, the silence was her ally. . .

Only to be broken by the heavy thud of an enormous kick thudding into the stout wooden door to this courtyard. Despite the obvious power of the kick, the oak door, some ten feet high, huge and weighty, held firm. The group of demons, startled, turned to look at the door. Another smash, this time lead by a shoulder, broke the door open. Barging in was a huge man, tattooed in the style of the Barbarian tribes, the huge warrior bellowed in triumph and drew his two weapons.

The demons were startled, but only for a moment. Snarling, the group leapt to the attack. Coming up level to the Barbarian came a swordsman, armed with a longsword enchanted with fire, and a shield. Behind these two was a woman armed with a bow. The silent watcher observed the woman's style of dress with interest, recognizing her to be a Rogue warrior. The silent observer decided to stay her hand for a while and see how this party handled themselves.

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Arc and Jorg stood at the ready together, waiting for the latest batch of demons to reach them. Slamming his sturdy weapons together, Jorg yelled a particularly brutal insult at the demons in his native tongue. Leaping forward, the huge warrior lead with a backhand swing from his spiked mace, slamming it into the side of the face of the first demon, following up with a huge downward chop that split another unfortunate demon's head in two.

Arc was no less successful in his attack, though what he lacked in vigour and pure power, he more than made up for with finesse. As a demon leapt straight at him, he shifted his stance slightly to lean to his right, and slammed the elbow-side of his shield into the demon's head. While the demon was still off balance, he slammed it again with an uppercut swing of his shield, throwing the demon back on its heels. In a smooth motion, he thrust his sword forward, and slid his fiery blade straight into the demon's heart.

However, of the three, it was Telindhra's quick bow work that won the fight. Waiting patiently for the warriors get out of her way, as the two moved into their respective skirmishes, she quickly drew back her drawstring and fired. Her first shot took one demon in the eye, killing it instantly, her next slamming into the knee joint of the last, just before it leapt. Suddenly crippled, it slammed chin first into the ground. Before it even managed to get to its knees, another shaft had slammed into its eye.

The encounter had taken less than two minutes with no injuries to their side. Without even needing to talk, the three continued to make their way through the Monastery. This was the fifth such skirmish they had had since arriving in the abandoned Monastery. One, the second fight, had been a little more strenuous, with three demons and five gargantuans, but afterwards, the companions had rested for a little with the help of Arc's healing Aura, and the three had set off afterwards feeling more or less good as new.

"So how far now then?" Arc queried Telin.

"According to Akara's information, we should be in the Outer Sanctum. From here, we should be able to reach the Inner Sanctum. From there it should be just a matter of entering the Catacombs under the Inner Sanctum to find Andariel's lair.

Arc nodded, fingering the handle of his sword. Looking around nervously, he said, "I think we're being followed."

Jorg shrugged. "From my experience, the types of demons and undead that are here usually aren't the stalk type." He slapped his axe head against his hand and grinned.

"They're more the run in and get chopped type."

Arc nodded. He agreed with Jorg's conclusions. The undead and demons were not particularly sophisticated and lacked the subtlety that he was suggesting. "Still, keep your eyes open. I've got a feeling."

As they continued, though, they saw no one following or watching them. But that sense still remained with Arc. At last they reached another huge wooden portal. It resembled the huge door they had found when they first entered the Monastery.

"This is it. From here we should be able to pass through this door and head to the Inner Sanctum." Telindhra moved to get in between the two warriors and open the door . . .

But yelped in shock and surprise as she was grabbed by the shirt from behind and yanked back. Arc and Jorg spun in surprise, drawing their weapons.

The woman who had grabbed the Rogue was dressed in similar clothing to Telin, but subtly different. She wore her long blonde hair up in a topknot and her face was angular and haughty. On her back was a large polearm, a long spear with a larger, slightly curved blade, and at her waist was a sheaf of javelins that could obviously be used as throwing weapons or hand weapons. Her wiry frame belied the strength in her muscles and her stance of slightly on the balls of her feet proclaimed the training as a hunter that allowed her to stalk up behind the group without being heard.

"You do not wish to go through there. Beyond that door is where a large group of evil ones are camped. There are perhaps a few hundred, lead by a few powerful warriors. You will not get through that way." She warned them.

Arc cursed softly, "Who are you?" He asked.

"Tell him." She said as she roughly pushed Telin towards the paladin.

Telindhra glared at the new comer and then spoke. "She is an Amazon. Her people are distant relations to the Rogues. What are you doing here?" She asked, turning to confront the Amazon.

"Hunting." The woman shrugged. "What are you?"

"We are here to destroy Andariel." Jorg answered, his face a mask of frank admiration. "You are welcome to join us if you wish."

The Amazon sniffed, her chin rising. "Why? Need help?" She asked mockingly.

Jorg laughed a deep belly laugh. "What is your name, small woman?" Though the Amazon was tall, topping more than six feet, she, along with pretty much the rest of the non-Barbarian world, was small in comparison to the giant Jorg, who was a full head taller than her.

"Maiyan." She replied.

Arc ignored Jorg's introduction of the three and directed his next question to Telindhra. "Is there any other way to reach the Catacombs?"

"No, the only way is through the Inner Sanctum." She rubbed her chin, her expression thoughtful. "But there is another way to reach the Inner Sanctum. If we go to the Barracks, then through the Jail, we should come up quite a ways in to the Inner Sanctum, hopefully avoiding this crowd entirely."

"The entrance of the Barracks is guarded." The Amazon input. "I could not risk attempting to fight them off alone. Perhaps though, with four, we can break through."

"Alright then." Arc nodded. "Let's get to the Barracks then."

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The Barracks was located close by, and they found it with little problems. Though they already knew from Maiyan's intelligence that the Barracks was fairly heavily guarded, there was no other way to gain entrance other than the huge wooden front door, so the four opted for the frontal approach once again. However they found the door locked and barred.

Not ones to be discouraged, they quickly formulated a plan.

Telindhra drew forth her bow and sent a steady stream of arrows into the door, all magically enhanced through her rituals to explode on impact. After a good half a dozen explosive arrows, the she stopped. The blackened door gave way to the shuddering impact of Arc and Jorg slamming into the door at full run.

There was a flurry of confused activity, as the room full of Fallen ones found themselves in the midst of four confidently advancing warriors, who had just broken down a huge solid wooden portal. The group of Fallen, despite their numerical advantage of almost seven to one, backed away from the approaching four.

A sudden arrow, drawn and released to fast for any to see, suddenly exploded in a shaman's chest, and the spell was broken. Arc charged, his shield barging into two Fallen, knocking them off their feet. His sword rose and fell rhythmically to hammer away defenses and end lives.

Jorg was equally effective, and a lot more terrifying. Charging straight into the middle of the room and a crowd of Fallen, Jorg was unmindful of any annoying little detail such as defense or guarding his back, and began swinging huge hacking swings whose range were almost twice the length of a Fallen's height. Soon, Jorg was surrounded by a ring of slashed and smashed bodies, Fallen fleeing from him in every direction.

Maiyan stalked off to the side, moving in to a corridor created by a stack of boxes, where two shamans and their escort of Fallen warriors were hiding from the deadly barrage of arrows. Pulling forth her glaive from her back, she slammed the first Fallen in the throat, almost taking off the head. The glaive was about seven feet in length, almost twice the height of a fallen, and she had little problems keeping them at bay. Magically enchanted for lightness and balance, as well as enhancing her own power, wielding the glaive was almost as easy as wielding a quarterstaff for her. Swishing the weapon back and forth to fend off clumsy sword attacks from the Fallen, she impaled one in the belly and lifted it off the ground, slamming the body into its two companions to the side.

Ducking and then leaping forward over two firebolts hurled by the shamans, she swung her glaive, taking the head off one, and then stabbed it again to take the next in the chest.

Due to the immense cowardliness of the Fallen, they were unable to muster the organization to use their only advantage, their numbers, to effectively fight off the intruders. The battle soon became a rout. The leader of the fallen, a Shaman who seemed to lead the others, was busy shouting orders and throwing firebolts at the same time. Its attempts at regrouping the monster's were cut short as an arrow thumped into its stomach, doubling the Shaman over. An instant later, as the surprised Shaman glanced up to search for the source of the arrow, a second arrow hammered into it's forehead with enough force to somersault the Shaman completely over to land face flat on the ground, quite deceased. After that the Fallen, demoralized at the death of their leader, proved no match for the four.

When all the fallen had been cut down, the four convened near the far door. "Which way do we have to go to get to these Jails." Arc queried Telin.

"Not far." She replied. "The stairs down to the Jail should just be left out this door and then a few corridors down. But," She stopped him as he was about to gesture to go, "there is something else here that I think we should do."

Telindhra began to relate her proposal, "When the Rogues were forced to abandon the Monastery, our blacksmith, Charsi wasn't at the forge at the time. She tried to get there before we had to evacuate, but that part of the Monastery had already been overrun. She was badly wounded trying to reach it through the monsters and corrupted sisters."

She could see that Jorg was getting impatient for her to reach the point, she hurried on in her story. "Charsi left behind the Horodric Malus, an enchanted smithing hammer passed through the order for generations since the first time Diablo and his brothers were bound on this world."

The Amazon, Maiyan cut in. "You Rogue's lost the Malus? How could you? Have yours skills become so lax as to drop your burden in your most desperate hour?" Red in the face, the Amazon was clearly livid at the thought.

Telindhra glared at the newcomer. "Hey, when Diablo and his minions come knocking at your door, then you can criticize our work, sister. Until then, don't knock it 'til you've tried it." Telindhra retorted, obviously not happy with the cold analysis of the Rogue's performance. Maiyan threw her hands up in disgust. Telin continued her tale. "With the Malus, the Rogues could create powerfully enchanted weapons to fight evil. Without the Malus, we lost a valuable asset in our fight against Diablo's minions. If we could retrieve it, it would be of great value for us."

Arc nodded. "How far is it to this Charsi's forge?"

"It's situated in this very Barracks. I can lead the way." She replied. "So, oh glorious leader, what do you say? Your wish is my command, remember?"

Arc rolled his eyes, "Alright soldier, lead the way," he said, throwing up his hands. Telin opened the door, turning right and heading down that corridor.

As they navigated through the dimly lit halls of the Monastery Barracks, Arc queried the Rogue about the relationship between her organization and the Amazon's. "So what's this Amazon's problem? She seems to be looking down her nose at your people." He shrugged as they took another right turn and headed towards a door. "Though it strikes me that she probably does that to everyone."

Telin chuckled. "You're probably not wrong. But the Amazons have always held the Rogues in contempt." She explained as she opened to door. "Legend has it that the Rogues are a derivative of Amazon culture, that the first of the Rogues spent some time with an Amazon tribe, and founded our order on the ideals and fighting styles of the tribe." The group crossed the room and exited to another corridor. "The Amazons see us as pretenders, as soft city folk trying to emulate them. Most tribes don't take offence and will treat a Rogue cordially, though often laughing at us behind their hands, but some tribes have been known to take our existence as an offence, and will attack us on sight." They had wound their way through three more corridors and finally stood in front of a large door with a forge sigil carved into the wood of the door. As she reached for the handle, she said. "So whenever we meet an Amazon, we have to be careful, always on our toes. You never know what will happen." She opened the door, her head still turned in Arc's direction as she spoke.

The door opened, revealing a large room, obviously a blacksmith forge. However, more importantly, a _very_ large demon, some nine feet in height, hugely muscled and frighteningly horned, stared at them in shock, his arm outstretched as though reaching of the opposing handle that Telin had just used to open the door.

Both the group of heroes and the Demon stared at each other in blank shock for a long second, neither fully comprehending the implication of what had happened. The moment was broken when Arc roughly shoved Telindhra to the side, away from the Demon.

"I hope you understand the full irony of that statement!" Arc yelled as he drew his sword and charged. The Demon, reacting in the same instant, bellowed a warcry and crouched into a fighting stance.

Though the Demon was surprised, and thus was unarmed at the time, his huge bulk and demonic strength, speed and endurance still marked him as a dangerous opponent.

With a huge sweep of his arm, the demon swept Arc out of the way, hurling the swordsman through the air into a wall. Behind the charging paladin came the serpent swift jabbing attacks of the Amazon's glaive. Though the attacks were too swift for the demon to effectively block or grab the weapon, the weapon was doing precious little damage to the powerful demon, little more than scratching it. And stuck in the doorway, there was no way for Telin or Jorg to get past the furiously attacking Maiyan to join the fight.

Finally, the demon wisely chose to forget the striking polearm and instead concentrate on the source, stepping into a thrust that only grazed across his ribcage, the huge demon planted an open palm on the Amazon's chest and pushed her, hurling the woman an halfway back the corridor. Telindhra was knocked over, clipped by the flying Amazon, but Jorg had ducked under the Amazon projectile and now advanced on the demon.

The huge Barbarian leapt to the attack, his mace and axe striking together in rapid succession. The Demon blocked away many of these attacks with the metal bracers encircling its forearms. Doing a bit of damage, a few of his strikes getting through the demon's defense, Jorg was pressing forward hard, trying to force the demon back into the room so that the group could use it's advantage of numbers.

However, the demon, despite its huge and powerful build, was quick and competent in battle and was parrying many of Jorg's most innovative attack routines. Suddenly, from the Demon's right side, Arc re-entered the skirmish with a charging attack. The Demon saw the Paladin at the last second and twisted away to only receive a superficial hit, but the damage was done. He had moved away from the door, allowing an opening for the full group to enter the room.

Jorg charged, swinging both his weapons in a huge overhand double chop. It was a foolish move, but a calculated move. The demon caught both weapons on his left bracer and roundhouse punched the barbarian, catapulting him into the wall next to the door. However, the ploy worked as the demon was delayed for the second, long enough for two sore but furious warrior women to enter the room. Arc charged, pressing hard with a lightning quick sword combo to the demon's right. To the demon's left, the Amazon twirled her glaive like a quarterstaff, slashing and stabbing hard. Even as the demon tried to concentrate on warding off these two, arrow's sailed over the two's heads, aimed at his unprotected head.

Falling back and bleeding from dozen's of wounds, the demon stumbled into his own anvil, and grabbed up his smithing hammer as a weapon. "The Malus!" Telindhra cried.

The huge demon surged forward, swinging the Malus in a huge overhand diagonal chop at Arc. Surging forward and to the side, he angled his shield to parry. Even angled to deflect most of the power off the shield and down away, the jarring remaining power in the swing numbed his arm. But still, without pausing, he spun and slashed, taking a sizable chunk from the monster's arm. Sensing victory, the swordsman followed up with an upperhand slash and a quick thrust, his blade biting deep into the monster's chest.

With surprise and agony clearly painted on the huge demonic visage, the huge Smith twisted away and stumbled back taking Arc's sword with it, still protruding from its chest. The puffing heroes watched in shocked amazement as the Smith slowly grasped the sword and wrenched it from it's own chest. The Paladin's longsword was dwarfed by the demon's bullish fist, looking more like a short sword for the demon.

"Why is it still on its feet?" Jorg asked in amazement. Indeed none of them could really believe it either. A gaping messy hole spewed blood from the demon's chest, splitting into multiple rivulets that ran down its body, clearly a fatal wound. "By all accounts, that demon should be burning in hell where it belongs by now!"

The Smith snarled and started to stumble forward, determined to take these mortals with it before it yielded to death's cold touch. It started to charge . . .

. . . As a heavily enchanted arrow took it in the throat and exploded in one of Telindhra's most powerful enchantments. Flames engulfed the creature's head and most of its upper body.

The Smith stumbled back again, tottering briefly. Yet still it stood, its face a stony mask. "Lord! Doesn't it ever die?!" Telindhra yelled.

The Smith's eyes, a startling white compared to it's now ash black, burnt head, rolled up in it's head and with a ground shaking thud, it fell flat on it's back, it's body already beginning to stiffen in death.

A long silence filled to forge. "Well, apparently he does," Telindhra said with a relieved sigh. Arc cautiously knelt beside the demon, watching it intently. Quickly grabbing his sword and the Malus, before leaping back, weapons raised. Seeing that the Demon remained still, he grinned sheepishly. "Just in case. We've had enough surprises today from that one." Turning quickly he headed for the door, brushing pass Telin.

Laughing, Jorg followed. Lastly, as Maiyan stalked past the giggling Telindhra, she stated in deadly seriousness, "From now on, I open the doors!"


	10. Chapter 09 Jail

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_CHAPTER 9 Jail_

For hundreds of years, the Monastery Jail had largely lay dormant. Between the king's guards and the talented Rogues, these two forces of good had enforced peace upon the land. Consequently, for generations this land had been a peaceful, relatively crime free place. The King's wisdom and benevolence meant that the people were prosperous and few needed to resort to crime to eke out a living. And most of the few criminals were caught swiftly, and incarcerated in the jail of the Royal Watch. Few had graced the Jails of the Rogue Monastery in the last hundred years, despite its size, and those few that were never even filled the cells of the first level. The second and third levels were almost abandoned.

That is, however, until recently. With the coming of Andariel and her hellish minions, the Monastery Jails became filled with life, life at its most bitter. Here, men, women and children, most simple folk, mostly farmers or craftsman, had been brought screaming and weeping by the evil fiends that had infested this land. Captives taken alive from village razings, or bands of people fleeing to the safety of the Rogue's camp, these people were dragged here to huddle for days on end in cold, lightless cells before being cruelly tortured by sadistic monsters, sometimes for information, often for twisted pleasure. However, the tortured screams that echoed the loudest through those forsaken corridors were those from the captured Rogues. Determined and courageous, these warriors often stood to the last arrow to defend those they vowed to protect, standing to block the way of Andariel's minions even when they had run out of arrows to defend themselves with. These warriors are the ones that were taken to these blighted halls and subjected to the worst tortures, tortures more horrible than any man could devise, tortures that only minds born from hell could inflict. None of these tortures taxed the body too far though, for only when the spirit was broken, only when the victim had begged for mercy, for death a thousand times, could Andariel's insidious magic be used, tainting the soul and possessing the mind, forever corrupting the victim against her will, to the path of darkness and destruction. It was these spells that created to greatest menace to the Rogue order in it's long history; Corrupted Rogues. Former sisters of that order, these warriors were subjected to magic of the blackest sort and turned into heartless killers bent on destroying the very order that had trained them. Those that withstood the corrupting spells were impaled upon driven stakes, their corpses stood up randomly in the corridor to warn the prisoners that passed the price of resisting.

It was into these soul-crushing depths that the party of heroes wove through now. None spoke, for in these dark depths it seemed that noise itself was a profanity. Distantly they could hear the echoes of piteous screams of agony. Already on the third level, the four had taken the longest route through the jail not only to avoid any confrontation and possible discovery, but also to get as far away from the cries as possible.

Arc had spent many years studying not only the art of the warrior, but also that of the Paladin, learning to revere life and to harness its power. Even though he hadn't drawn his sword, his hand was clenched on the hilt, his knuckles white. He longed to draw his sword and rush towards the sounds, to cut down those scum that were inflicting such pain in a righteous rage, and to free those poor souls, his own life be damned. But again and again he reminded himself of their mission, a litany of the greater good that their purpose will serve. But every time he heard those screams, he prayed to all that was holy to forgive him for trying to ignore them.

For Telindhra, it was the thought that one of her sister Rogues might be making that noise, screaming for mercy and death, tortured her soul. Her heart bled for the people that she had sworn to protect, as a Rogue, guardian of the land, that were captives in these cursed cells, but her soul screamed at the thought of one of her brethren even now being made ready to be twisted and corrupted into yet another soulless minion of Andariel. She was glad she was not walking the point, because she was not seeing clearly due to the tears that filled her eyes and leaked down her cheeks.

Again Jorg wiped the sweat from his forehead, for perhaps the twentieth time. Though a brave man, a warrior who fearlessly risked his life every day with a grin on his face, he secretly admitted that he got a little uncomfortable when he ventured underground. Born and bred a fierce barbarian, he gloried in open combat under the eyes of the heavens, the sun on his back as he pit strength and skill against worthy opponents.

Barbarians, he adamantly told himself again, were not made for dark tombs! Barbarians were made for running the wide plains. The dark belly of the earth was for skulking thieves and honorless necromancers, he thought. Stuffy, dark, places far under the earth made him nervous, though he would admit it to no one.

Although usually Jorg shrugged off this feeling, in this Jail, with the terrible screams and the stench of death permeating everywhere, he found himself lathered in a cold sweat and longing to leave this place behind. Death should be met in honored combat, out in the open where the gods can witness and judge. This form of death, slow, painful tortured death of despair and hopelessness, sickened and terrified him.

Maiyan, taking the point of the group, held her glaive at the ready as she silently stalked through the dark corridors. All senses alert for the slightest glimpse, the barest whisper, the thinnest waft of approaching monsters, she immersed herself in staying on guard, a state so similar to the hunt she had gloried in, in the forests back home. Only through this act that came so familiarly to her could she shut out the horrors that pervaded her soul.

Finally, the group made their way to a set of stairs, a broad flight that lead all the way up to the inner sanctum, and out of this hellish place. Quickly they ascended the stairs, eager to be away from this foul place. As they approached the huge double door, Telindhra spoke. "I wish there were something we could have done."

The silence between them was broken, the sounds of Telindhra's voice sounding out of place compared to the darkness that they all felt gripping their souls.

"I know. But we are committed. We must see this through to the end." Arc answered, his voice husky. The raw emotion that he felt at leaving those poor souls to their fate was clearly marked on his voice.

Telindhra nodded in agreement. "I know. But, still, my soul feels sullied for having to endure that place. I feel dirty."

Jorg nodded and growled, "Yes, but with the gods' grace, our souls will be cleansed with the death of Andariel before this day ends."


	11. Chapter 10 Cathedral

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_CHAPTER 10 Cathedral_

Maiyan gaped. "You fools think to defeat Andariel? In the depths of her stronghold, surrounded by her fiercest warriors? Had I known you three thirst for death I wouldn't have helped you."

Telindhra gave her a withering look, "You think we mean to just waltz in and kill the demon queen? We have a plan, you know."

Maiyan snorted. "With just the three of you, your plan looks a lot like getting overwhelmed and dying, really."

Jorg let out a booming laugh. After stepping out of the Jail and into the Inner Sanctum, he had regained some of his normal vigor and composure. "Just follow along and trust us. I think we may surprise you." Jorg turned around and started towards the large Cathedral stood in the center of the large sanctum, followed by Arc and Telindhra. "Or, of course, you could turn back and go through that Jail again."

Maiyan stood still, weighing the options for a moment, before falling in step with the other three. "Glad that you decided to come. And don't worry, ours is a good plan." Jorg grinned broadly.

Maiyan shrugged, her face impassive, "Today is as good a day to die as any, barbarian," she said neutrally, clearly unconvinced.

Quickly crossing the large courtyard that was the inner sanctum of the Monastery, the four braced themselves, ready for combat, as they threw open the huge double doors of the Cathedral. Surprising a motley crew of Fallen ones and zombies, quick work from Telindhra's bow scattered the monsters as Arc led the charge into the fray. While holding superior numbers, the monsters were put off balance by the surprise attack and the sudden death wrought by Telindhra's bow destroyed any real resistance before the three warriors even lifted their blades.

Within seconds the skirmish was over and the four cautiously edged their way through the Cathedral.

Once a holy place of light and worship, the Cathedral was visibly worse for wear since the Demon Queen Andariel had taken up residence in the Catacombs beneath. The vile presence of the powerful demon permeated all through her surroundings, and the Cathedral was sullied by her presence. Now the Cathedral was unnaturally dark, having to be lit by lanterns even during the day, and the presence of the small fires burned unnaturally hot, sweltering the air, even as they chilled the soul with the too small amount of light they gave, barely fending off the darkness.

All four adventurers knew that this place, this time was the most dangerous and crucial part so far. For here, the portal lay that lead down to Andariel's lair, the Catacombs. And thus, it would be guarded by the most deadly of her minions, the Corrupted Rogues.

As they rounded the corner to the right and headed towards the stairs that lead down to the Catacombs, the stairs erupted in movement. Out burst a patrol of evil Rogues, shrieking and laughing. The flowing steps of their charge spoke of the warrior teachings they had received as Rogues, and the twisted, maniacal grins of glee betrayed the horrible rites they had endured that corrupted their souls with demonic powers. As one, they charged, the bucklers on their left arms leading to ward away strikes, and their right arms nocked behind, holding short swords, hand axes or spiked maces, ready to strike with serpent swiftness.

With only a split second to act, the party responded instantly, as though they had been fighting as one for years. The three warriors at the fore closed ranks, forming a small curved line, with Arc at the head, and Telin protected behind. Against superior numbers of skilled warriors, the four knew they needed to protect their backs. Arc cleared his mind and soul with well practiced monk trained meditative exercises, and reached into himself, harnessing his life energy, his chi, and patterning it to produce an powerful Aura, one that would enhance the speed and precision of his and his allies strikes. Immediately the other three felt the resonance of their companion's energy within themselves, their own life force weaving to copy the pattern outlined.

And not too soon as the rush of ten Corrupted Rogue hurled themselves upon the three. Arc threw up both his arms; his left arm catching an axe square on his shield, while his left deftly deflected a stabbing sword. To his left, the cool and concentrating Amazon gripped her glaive in the middle of the haft with two hands, and was spinning the weapon furiously in intricate patterns, batting away speeding attacks and even delivering back lightning fast stabs and slashes. To his right, Jorg bellowed in wild abandon, his two weapons, the flanged mage in his left, and the large Axe in his right, flailing in seemingly uncontrolled parries and strikes. Though they seemed uncontrolled, untrained, the attacks of a berzerker barbarian, Arc could see that the attacks were well trained and measured, as none of the rogues fluid attacks penetrated his defenses.

Arc returned his concentration back to the foes facing him. Telindhra's quick bowshots worked to their advantage, for though the Corrupted Rogues were skilled enough to dodge away from killing shots, Telin kept them wary and moving, not allowing them to use their superior numbers to overwhelm the three. Arc rapidly deflected two strikes with his longsword and delivered a lightning quick shield punch into the face of the left most Rogue, followed by a front kick that connected squarely in her chest, hurling her backwards and off her feet. However, another Rogue quickly took her place and again he was fending off two skilled opponents on both his sides. Though the heroes had a solid defense line, it occurred to Arc that offensively they were at an extreme disadvantage, unable to press their attacks for fear of superior numbers at their flanks.

The stalemate continued on for a long minute that felt like ten for the warriors. However, it was the teamwork of the four warriors that gave them the opening they needed. A well-placed arrow from Telindhra took a Rogue in front of Arc by surprise, burying deep into her eye and killing her instantly. In that split second that Arc had before another Rogue filled the void he pressed the attack.

His attack was not against a foe in front of him, however. To his left, Maiyan was favouring her right side, deflecting furious attacks on her left side while at the same time, spinning the blade side of her glaive in equally furious attacks on the Rogue to her right. The Corrupted Rogue was concentrating all her skill with both mace and buckler, to deflect those darting slashes from the Amazon's polearm.

The void opened by the fallen Rogue gave Arc the opening he required. Spinning quickly, he thrust his sword deep into the unsuspecting Rogues side. Completely taken off guard, the Rogue groaned and crumpled.

Completing his spin, he returned his attention to defense as once again two Rogues squared off against him. However, with the free split second that Arc had won her, Maiyan returned the favour with a powerful downwards slash that severed the shield arm of one of Arc's adversary. As he quickly dispatched the wounded Rogue, Arc found himself with another half moment's respite. Again he struck out, delivering a crippling blow to the knee of a Rogue attacking Jorg's left.

And so it went, each fighter aiding each other, back and forth down the line, until the superior numbers were lost and the four faced off with a now nervous five Corrupt Rogues.

Two of the Rogues glanced around and then spun and fled down the stairs. A shot from Telindhra caught one low in the back as the other disappeared down the winding staircase.

"Quickly, We have to be in position before she brings more or all will be lost!" Telindhra yelled, shooting again with renewed vigor. Arc charged forward to engage the last of the Rogues, Maiyan and Jorg close on his heels.

Each dispatched their adversaries quickly. Maiyan repositioned the grip of her weapon, now holding it like a light spear. With a huge range advantage and quick, precise stabs and slashes, Maiyan's adversary was the first to fall. Arc charged and engaged, his longsword and shield both darting back and forth in defense and attack, weaving a deadly dance that would only be matched by the most skilled of master swordsman. The Corrupt Rogue that faced off with him fell a close second. While the other two had felled their opponents with precision and skill, Jorg changed his tactics. While the Rogue was only slightly his superior in speed, he was by far the superior in strength. In all out attack, he concentrated his strikes on the weapon and shield of his opponent. The Rogue at first easily parried the huge attacks, but found the sheer power of the giant barbarian terrifying. Soon her small buckler shattered under the axe barrage, and her sword arm was numb deflecting the attacks of the mace. Seeing imminent destruction, she turned to flee. Her head dropped to the floor scant heartbeats after Arc's opponent, and her crumpled body soon after.

"Hurry!" Telindhra shouted as she swept by the three warriors at a run. Bounding down the stairs, she was closely followed by the paladin, barbarian and amazon.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she hurriedly pulled a scroll from her belt and said, "If that last Rogue has mustered the garrison too soon, we're finished." She thrust it into Arc's hands. "You do it. Maybe if they come I can slow them." Ripping off the ribbon on the scroll, he began chanting, and Telindhra knelt and leveled her bow.

Maiyan was carefully watching the end of the corridor. Some sixty paces until the end of the corridor, it was shrouded in darkness, the end barely visible, even to her keen eyes. She leant her glaive up against the wall and unlimbered a bundle of throwing javelins. She saw something, at the end of the corridor. Dark against the blackness, she could not tell what it was. "Movement," she warned casually, in the same instant Telindhra let fly with her first arrow. Conserving her energy, not wishing to waste all her magical strength on her first few arrow, she enchanted her arrows with fire. The fiery projectiles flew down the corridor, illuminating as they went, creating a sort of strobe as the line of fire arrows flew. The leading Rogue, charging down the corridor, took the arrow in the chest. Again and again the arrows lit the corridor in flashes, as more and more Corrupt Rogues charged towards the four. Maiyan's javelins joined the barrage, adding further confusion to the ranks of charging Rogues, some of hers enchanted with poison clouds.

"Twenty . . . twenty-four . . . thirty . . . thirty-five . . . thirty-nine" Jorg quietly counted the charging Rogues, those that still charged. Resigned, he raised his weapons, ready to receive the brunt of the attack, to give his life for a few precious more seconds.

As the Corrupt Rogues reached a mere fifteen paces, Arc's chanting reached its climax. At ten paces, a familiar glowing blue portal opened in the center of the corridor next to him. That same instant the portal began to spew forth a column of charging Rogues. Rogues dressed in the traditional red uniform, yelling welcome familiar warcries. The two columns joined in a terrific clash, the good Rogues initially outnumbered, but gaining the advantage of their hugely shocked Corrupted brethren. Maiyan tucked away her javelins and snatched up her glaive and followed as Jorg and Arc joyously joined the fray as more and more good Rogue's poured through the portal, and once more battle erupted in the Rogue's ancestral Monastery.


	12. Chapter 11 Sister's to the Slaughter

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_CHAPTER 11 Sister's to the Slaughter_

Together, Maiyan the Amazon and Telindhra the Rogue, silently slipped around the corner and entered a large room. Keeping to the shadows, the pair quietly stalked in, and split up. Telindhra made her way to the left while Maiyan to the right. Seeing that the room was indeed completely deserted, they motioned to the next rogue, a Rogue lieutenant named Quanintas, who then motioned to the others behind her. She then entered the room, followed by Arc deQuester the Paladin, Jorg the Barbarian and the other nineteen rogues that made up the strike team under Arc's command. For almost two hours the company had been stalking the corridors of the first, then second level of the Catacombs, silently circumnavigating the patrols of Corrupted Rogues and other hellish minions of Andariel.

The company had been studious in avoiding the many clashes and conflicts that had sprung up all around this level of the Catacombs. Three hours earlier Arc had opened the Town Portal that allowed hundreds of Rogues to sally forth into these Catacombs underneath the Cathedral of their ancestral Monastery. Following the warriors had come a group of Priestesses, lead by Akara herself, High Priestess of the Order. This conclave of priestesses immediately invoked their most powerful magic to seal the entrance to the Catacomb, effectively cutting the Corrupted Rogue garrison, and Andariel herself, from any aid that may come from her army of hell minions. Despite being outnumbered by their twisted sisters, the Rogues were running a solid campaign, beating back their evil brethren and taking possession of most of this upper level.

However, it is blatantly clear to all that their bid to take the Catacombs, and even the Monastery was a folly. Kashya, war leader of the Rogues, had summoned almost the entire force of the remaining good Rogues, leaving the fortified camp that acted as their headquarters stripped to a skeleton defending force. And even then, this attack might not have enough to defeat the fiends in the Catacombs, even without the Demon Queen Andariel. Even now Andariel had commanded her Corrupted Rogues prepared for another huge offensive against the good Rogues who had taken the first level. The last desperate offensive of a badly weakened foe, the good Rogues had left themselves vulnerable to utter annihilation.

Unbeknownst to Andariel, this offensive was merely a feint. Even now Arc led his strike company secretly through the Catacombs towards the main objective of this attack: Andariel herself. Accompanied by his companions, Telindhra, Jorg and Maiyan, and supported by a patrol of twenty rogues highly skilled in moving quickly and silently through enemy lines, their mission was to make their was down to the fourth and final level of the Catacombs, into Andariel's personal stronghold, then challenge and destroy the Demon Queen. The Amazon Maiyan, the only one of the four that had not known the ultimate goal of the assault on the Catacombs, had outwardly seemed unimpressed at the ambitious and reckless move made up the Rogues. She had only said, "Well, if nothing else, the little sisters can gamble with the best."

By accessing a small chimney above a sacrificial altar on the second floor, an hour ago the company had managed to reach the second floor of the Catacombs without using the main stairwell, which was heavily guarded by good Rogues at the top, and evil ones below. Now they were close to reaching the second flight of stairs, down to the third level. It was this point that could break this mission, for though the third level should be practically deserted with most of the garrison poised to attack the first level, this flight of stairs would also undoubtably be guarded.

The two scouts, Maiyan and Telindhra moved cautiously into a short corridor that led to the next room. In this next room lay the stairs down so they were both extremely wary for signs of guard. To their surprise, the room lay empty. As Telindhra motioned the company forward, Maiyan silently stole down the stairs to catch a glimpse of what guards may lay at the bottom.

Soon, the company stood poised at the top of the stairs, ready to rush down at the sound of discovery. Maiyan returned, equally silently and whispered to Arc. "There are five." She quickly described where they stood, one on the left, two on the right, two in the centre of the room.

He motioned forward six of the best Rogues. Mainly using hand gestures and a few whispered comments, he relayed his orders. Take them by surprise. You three, follow Telindhra and feather the two in the centre. You two, follow Maiyan and take the two on the right, you, follow Quanintas, take the one on the left. Quietly, he gestured by cutting his finger across his throat, take them from behind.

Arc despised having to sent others to kill, but he knew that even his magically enhanced chainmail would still make some noise, though only the barest whisper. And though a master swordsman, trained for honorable combat, Arc himself was ill trained at the art of killing quietly and from behind.

Each of the Rogues accompanying Arc was armed with the long bow that was the hallmark weapon for the Rogue order, and multiple quivers of arrows. But these could be dropped in an instant, and each Rogue was also equipped with a short sword and a three-pronged parrying dagger for close combat. It was these daggers that half the company drew as the group of nine noiselessly made their way down the stairs. Then there was a muted twang and the hiss of arrows streaking through the air and thudding into their targets. Arc motioned and the rest of the party followed. The Rogues who dispatched the others by dagger had not even made a noise.

Once again Arc's command started off. The stairs came down into a large room with a door opposite the stairs. But as the strike team was only half way across the room, the door opened. Ill luck would have it that at that moment, on the other side of that door was a large patrol of evil Rogues, accompanied by giant spiders called Arachnids and vampire sorcerers called Banished. Originally heading towards the stairs in order to join the attack on the upper level, the patrol was alerted to trouble by the sound of arrows thudding home. Now they flung to door open and charged into the room as one.

Always wary, Arc's command weren't taken by surprise. From the second the door swung open, arrows left quivers and were drawn back in bows. The first twisted Rogues cleared the door only to be pin-cushioned by a score of arrows. However these Corrupt Rogues were well drilled in battle and there was no hesitation at the sudden death of those in front. More Rogues poured into the room before they could be held back by archers or warriors. The frontmost good Rogues dropped their bows and leapt to engage with hastily drawn melee weapons.

Still acting as a scout, Telindhra found herself at the front of the strike command. From the instant her first arrow left her bow, she knew it would be the last. Her evil sisters were pouring through, and a bow was poor defense against a sword. Besides, if she were to held battle Andariel, she would need her bow, and she did not want to risk it in deflecting a sword.

Telindhra dropped her bow and drew forth the dagger and sword given to her when the rest of the Rogues joined the four. From the moment she barely deflected a sword thrust with her parrying dagger and returned with a clumsy slash with the sword, that was caught on a buckler, Telindhra new she was in trouble.

Not using his Aura powers before then, as he did not with the visual aura to give him away, Arc now reached inward and called forth the paladin signature power. Acting in a split second, he only had time to call forth the most basic of auras. He patterned his chi in a simple pattern, one that increased the physical might of him and his companions. Once accomplished, he drew his sword and prepared himself for combat.

And not a moment too soon. Even a split second in combat can be far too long to let one's guard down, and this one almost cost Arc. Even as he drew his sword a huge Arachnid, as long as a man is tall and weighing more than three times that of a man, leapt towards him with frightening power and speed. From the door it had leapt high and long, flying over the head of more than a few combatants and hurling itself eight-legs first, clearly planning to land onto of him.

Eighteen years of age, Telindhra was one of the most promising young Rogues left. Already she was one of the most skilled with the bow in the camp, only slightly behind Kashya and a few of the other veteran Rogues. She was also well versed in hunting and woodcraft, and could stalk through the forests and plains as well as any ten years her senior. Her presence here, in a crack team of Rogues, all of whom where veteran warriors, most almost twice her age, was testimony of her burgeoning skills.

However, in hand to hand combat, her skills were adequate at best. Not that she was lacking in talent, but merely because her studies had not yet concentrated on that area properly. Though skilled, she was still young, and prior to the incident of sneaking from the camp to attack a lair of monsters in the company of Arc deQuester, she had been expected to serve in the archers company for years yet, never coming close to battle if it could be helped. Thus she had only the basic of close combat training, and this fighting with two weapons style was completely new to her.

Desperately hurling himself backwards, Arc threw himself into a backward roll, coming up to his knees. The Arachnid had already landed with surprising agility and had skittered forward, until it was almost on top of him. As the giant insect's head rammed into his shield, Arc dropped his sword to prop himself up, for he knew that to let the spider on top of him was to die. Again and again, the Arachnid reared forward to bite the harried paladin, and again and again Arc blocked the giant spider with his shield. Drawing a dagger from his belt he lashed out, scoring hits, but his dagger could not pierce the hard carapace of the Arachnid.

Drawing his concentration inwards, Arc initiated well practiced exercised to calm his thoughts to fight the panic and revulsion the Arachnid was causing him this close up, and calmly waited for his opportunity. It came at the next strike as the Arachnid again threw itself at him. Instead of blocking it with the flat of his shield, he turned it and delivered a giant shield bash that connected with the Arachnid's head straight between the eyes. Rearing up on four legs in pain, the Arachnid shrieked and brought itself down heavily, trying to crush the soft human with it's huge bulk. But Arc had anticipated this move and, grabbing his fallen sword, wedged it between the floor and the spider's falling body. The Arachnid's own momentum drove the sword clean through the insect's body, killing it instantly. Sticky fluid gushed out of the body, covering Arc in a thick yellowish liquid.

Pushing the corpse away and rolling to his feet, he cursed all insects to a wretched flaming death.

Telindhra knew her situation was getting bleak as her blocks and parries became more awkward and late. She had given up attempting to use the parrying dagger to block after a missed block cut a deep line of red across her arm. Another small gash featured across her forehead and her ribs ached from a swift knee that had come crashing into her belly. She had not even had the opportunity to attack since that first slash.

A final desperate ploy came to her as she leapt back from a slash that missed her breast by an inch. She came back to stand in a fighter's crouch, her sword held outstretched and her dagger held near her head like a torch. She knew she looked ridiculous, holding that foolish pose like a ten year old boy playing war. By her face was stony and composed, looking at her opponent right in the eyes.

The corrupted Rogue opposite Telindhra laughed mockingly, seeing this young girl caught up but fancies and posing like a fool. With practiced precision the she lashed out with her own sword, knocking Telindhra's outstretched sword out of her hand and clear across the room.

Telindhra expected this and even welcomed it. Once, speaking to an amateur 'magician', one who entertained children with sleight of hand tricks, this entertainer remarked that the secret to trickery was to mask your real movements by presenting another, flamboyant one. As the Rogue knocked her sword away, Telindhra fell back on what she knew. She specialized in the bow, as did many Rogues, but was also skilled with throwing spears and knives. Never taking her eyes off the Corrupt Rogue's face, her left hand whipped down, throwing her parrying dagger. Knowing her opponent was quick with her shield, she instead targeted a place that would be impossible to defend. The thrown dagger slammed into the Rogue's ankle penetrating clean through the joint and protruding through the other side of her foot.

The Rogue gave an agonised yell, one that was prematurely cut off by a powerful front kick delivered by Telindhra that solidly connected with the Rogue's chest. Stumbling backwards, each shuffled step blinding agony, the Rogue fell heavily against the wall, dropping her sword. Picking it up, Telindhra wasted no time in burying it in her evil sister's heart.

Arc looked around, taking stock. Three of his Rogues lay burnt and lifeless, thanks to the fiery spells of the pair of Banished. Another writhed on the floor thanks to the insidious venom of another Arachnid. Another was laying severely wounded from a sword blow.

As for the other side, the enemy had entered the room with little more than half the good Rogue's numbers in their corrupted sisters, but also there were four Arachnids and a pair of Banished. Six of the Corrupt Rogues lay dead, from arrow or blade. The pair of magic wielding undead proved their most potent from a range, and now were to busy fending off attacks to wield too powerful magics. And all four of the thrice cursed Arachnids were dead, for which he was exceedingly grateful.

Now he moved through the room, turning the tide on individual duels with a hamstringing blow or a blade to the back. Though it was hardly honorable combat, the party was close to their goal and could not afford to risk the mission at this late stage.

Soon the battle was over, most Rogues picking up their dropped bows or helping those wounded. Arc reached in again and patterned his inner chi, his life energy, to another familiar one, one that gave off a light blue light and slowly helping those around to regain strength and heal wounds.

Telindhra approached, having retrieved her weapons, and coming close to Arc, remarked loudly "Phew! You smell like you've been bathing in the latrines, oh glorious leader." Most of the other Rogues had also noted the sorry state that the paladin was in and laughed. "This was supposed to be a surprise attack, but now she'll be able to smell us coming before we even reach the fourth level!"

Arc scowled briefly before shrugging good-naturedly. "It's a secret weapon. After smelling these noxious fumes, she'll leave without a fight. Even the fires of hell undoubtably are more pleasant that this foul stench."

After a brief rest aided by Arc's healing Aura, most of the wounded felt recovered enough to press on, though some were still weak. Only one had to be left behind, as there was no point bringing wounded along where they were headed. The Rogue, bleeding heavily from a major wound to the side, lay in the corner, still clutching her bow with an arrow raised, grimly determined to make any who came this way pay dearly.

Two corridors and four rooms later they found a well. After all had drunk deeply, Arc splashed water all over himself using an upturned helm as a bucket, and cleaned himself off. Dripping wet but no longer sticky and gruesomely smelling, Arc was exceedingly grateful for the second time that day. With a huge sigh of relief Arc lead his strike team off, towards the final stairway which would lead them to Andariel's lair. 


	13. Chapter 12 Andariel

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_CHAPTER 12 Andariel_

Descending the final staircase, Arc breathed in deeply. Though the air was stuffy and stale, he had long ago learnt to savor the feeling of this basic tenant of life before battle, as soon it may be taken from him forever. Arc could almost imagine the taste of vileness, of evil tainting the air.

Reaching the end of the stairs, they entered the first of the three chambers that made up this final level that was the personal sanctum of Andariel. Though this chamber was deserted, they knew that the next chamber would be peopled by the retainers of the leaders of different factions within the garrison, as their leaders were in the next chamber advising Andariel on the situation of the good Rogue's attack upon the Catacombs.

"Remember," Arc repeated himself for perhaps the twentieth time, "We must clear this room quickly. We cannot risk a confrontation with Andariel prematurely. Keep to your groups, guard each other's backs. Telindhra, you and your crew give cover." All nodded their understanding.

Coming to the first of the large portals in this level, Arc paused before throwing it open. Closing his eyes briefly he once again reached deep within into the recesses of his very being to harness the pure life energy residing there. Weaving it within itself into a certain pattern, he created an Aura that suffused his being and resonated it's power throughout the life energy that surrounded him, namely that of his companions. He called forth one of his most powerful Auras, one that increased the power and precision of his and his allies' attacks. "Ready?" he queried his fellows. At the sound of their combined assent, he through open the doors and charged.

The room erupted in pandemonium as sixteen veteran Rogues burst into the room, bows singing a deadly song of death. The room held four times their number in Fallen, Corrupted Rogues and bulky demons called Tainted Ones. However, these were the most powerful and talented Rogues available, hardened by years of experience and incensed by months of conflict with the forces of evil that had slowly eaten away their beloved order. Powerful enchantments lay heavy on the shafts that flew through the room. A dozen or more demons and foul minions died, some hit by burning shafts, others thrown by arrows that exploded on impact, still others overwhelmed by freezing cold that froze their corpses where they stood. The Rogues spread out as they shot, forming a rough line at the wall of the chamber

And through the centre of this charged three puissant warriors, each supreme in their chosen craft. Falling on a barely prepared group of Corrupt Rogues, Arc lead the way sword slashing three times in blindingly rapid succession, cutting down two before they could even lift shields. To his left the gigantically powerful barbarian Jorg let loose a frenzy of attacks with both weapons, smashing in the chest of one Rogue and quickly overwhelming the hasty defence raised by the second, finishing with a diagonal blow that buried his axe deep into her chest. To his left the cool, unflappable amazon Maiyan, using her weapon as a spear, jabbed her weapon in rapid succession to take the first Rogue in the throat, then knocked away a parry from the second and completely impaled the Rogue with her glaive. Calmly placing her boot on the face of the now dead kneeling Rogue, she kicked hard and jerked her weapon free.

The Rogues continued their deadly enchanted barrage, keeping the flanks of the three heroes clear or enemies. Fallen ones, Tainted demons hurled themselves upon themselves into the fray with these warriors. Again and again Arc's shield flashed out after blocking an attack to bash his adversary before his sword dealt death. Again and again Jorg killed, swapping between blindingly quick and precise co-ordinated parries and attack with both weapons, to hugely powerful blows that left enemies reeling, even if they had blocked the blow. Again and again Maiyan spear jabbed out at a terrifying speed, using the great range of the weapon to good effect, blocking blows before snaking out to take a throat, and eye, or spearing the heart, the belly or the groin.

Yet when the heroes began to get pushed back, it was the Corrupted Rogues that started to turn the tide. For these were the greatest of those who had turned, sometimes the most powerful, but mostly the most fanatical in their loyalty to Andariel. Most of those that served this close to the Demon Queen were those vile sisters that were not forced under duress to turn against their brethren, were not terribly tortured and tormented into embracing evil. These were those that willingly serve Andariel, those that forsook their vows for the evil's seductive promise. These were the ones who willingly leapt into the fray, froth bubbling from their mouths as they screamed for their Demon Queen. These were those that welcomed death, indeed longed to die for their mistress, killing and killing and killing until they themselves were killed. They were the most deadly not because of their skill, but because of their lust to kill and die for their mistress.

Slowly the three were forced back. Though each step back was bought with the lives of more and more of the evil minions, the three knew that they could not keep up their position.

More and more of the monsters around the flanks were getting closer and closer to the three heroes before they were cut down by the shafts of the Rogues. Long experienced in ways of battle, each one the archer women knew that the time had come. Soon once group of three dropped their bows, drew their blades and charged into the fray. Another group followed suit, and another, until all four groups had broken away and joined in battle. Only Telindhra and three other companions manned their bows, lending support to their allies with deadly shafts.

Again pandemonium broke out among the enemy. Focused on attacking the three heroes, they were taken unprepared by the sudden rush of the twelve rogues. Immediately the incredible strain of numbers eased off Arc and his two friends and again they began moving forward and devoting their energies to attacking. As five independent groups of warriors broke away and engaged the enemies, the battle ceased to be a linear battle, with two lines or forces engaging, but a pitched battle with isolated islands of Rogue warriors ranging through the room, attacking enemies at will.

Now the fiends only slightly outnumbered the Rogues, but now also the fiends had recovered from the surprises Arc's team had sprung and were squaring off on equal footing. Most of the Rogues had now ceased their moving and were caught up in duels and battles with other groups of monsters, each standing toe to toe and hardly moving in their contest of arms. Only Arc's group was different. Striding through the room like gods of battle, the three scythed through their enemies with speed, precision and grace. None could stand up to them for long. They hardly paused as they dispatched four fallen ones. They fell on a group of Tainted Demons from behind that they saw threatened Telindhra and her position of archers. Where other Rogues battled monsters, they lent aid and the battles ended within seconds. Even the last band of Corrupted Rogues, five strong and mad with passion to die with the blood of enemies on their blades, could not stand up to the graceful dance that the three wove. Attacking furiously, aiding each other and defending each other, the instinctive teamwork that supplemented their skills created a weapon that no denizen of Andariel could crack. Alone, each was a deadly warrior formidable and to be feared, by together the three warriors were invincible.

Arc's crimson stained blade flashed a final time and the final twisted Rogue collapsed in a bloody heap. Silence filled the room, the floor scattered with the bloody remains of Andariel's honor guard. Arc looked around and took stock. Almost half the Rogues had fallen or were too seriously wounded to go one. Eight of them were collecting fallen bows, exhausted but still able. Arc, Maiyan and Jorg sported various cuts and bruises, none of which were particularly serious, but all added together wearied the three. Only Telindhra seemed to had escaped the encounter relatively unscathed, though the blood remaining from the previous battle the Rogues had fought still left her a frightful image.

Arc knew that this time there would be no spared moment allowed to summon his healing Aura, no time to lead tired muscles rest. This time they must press their advantage. "All right. Quanintas. You take those four." He motioned at four of the remaining Rogues. "When we get in there, you take them and take care of those lieutenants with Andariel. The rest of you, with Telindhra. You back us up, you know what to do." The Rogues nodded their acquiescence. He looked at Jorg and Maiyan. To them and Arc would fall upon the hardest assignment. The two met his gaze and nodded their readiness.

The last of the huge portals burst open as Arc lead his team into the personal throne room of the Demon Queen, Andariel.

The alien, demonic features of Andariel were both alike and horribly different from that of a human. The Demon Queen was a huge affair, her powerful, muscled body was covered in a tawny fur, and a long crown of fiery hair topped her head. Most horribly of all, a multitude of spider-leg like appendages protruded from her back, ending in bone like claws. She leaped up from her throne in shock, towering to her full thirteen odd feet of height. Apparently at the sound of the battle ending, she had expected one of her minions to enter reporting victory. After a moment's hesitation, she purposely began to stride forward.

The strike team wasted no time. Splitting up, the five Rogues lead by Quanintas surged forward, intercepting the two Corrupt Rogues and the Banished vampire that stood council with Andariel. The four led by Telindhra ranged out, firing arrows at the huge spectre of the Demon Queen that had been the bane of their order for so long. Arc led his two companions in a charge straight for the Demon queen herself. Unlike before, this time the three spread out as they charged, for it was their superior numbers that was their main asset in this battle.

Still striding forward, the Demon queen made a broad gesture and a huge bank of insidiously green fog billowed out towards the attackers. Thinking quickly, Arc yelled, "Close your eyes! Don't breathe." With that he followed his advice, never slowing, as the noxious poison engulfed him and his companions. Even without breathing in, or opening his eyes, he could feel the poison seeping in through his very skin, attacking him. It was debilitating, stealing his strength and attacking his system. He shuddered to think what breathing it would do.

And then he was free of it, out the other side. He could sense the difference in the air around him. He opened his eyes to see a huge Andariel virtually in front of him. Surprised, he raised his shield, catching a mighty side kick from the demon that would have snapped his neck. Even so the sheer weight of the blow threw him clean off his feet and the sailed ten feet through the air to land on his back and slide away with a grunt.

Arrows sailed over the heads of Maiyan and Jorg, every one holding true to the target. Only a few managed to hit the target, through, hardly penetrating Andariel's thick hide, proving more of a nuisance than anything. The rest were deflected away, warded off by some powerful unseen magic at the command of the Demon Queen.

Andariel stood still, amused, as Maiyan and Jorg took their positions, one on each side of the Demoness. She could not attack one without exposing her back to another. Leaping up, Arc hurried and took his own position, straight in front of Andariel. Arc, Maiyan and Jorg together formed a rough triangle, with Andariel, their prey, in the centre. The four Rogues, lead by Telindhra, formed a much wider circle around them, lending support from all angles.

Now all stood stock still, Demoness in the centre, surrounded by seven warriors, tense and waiting for the slightest break. Long seconds passed, and none moved.

Then, with frightening speed, Andariel leapt to the attack. One moment she was stock still, standing straight, a small smile on her demonic face, the next she was charging, hunched forward and arms outstretched, towards Arc. Like a single sound, for bowstrings twanged and four arrows shot into the magical defence that Andariel had erected around her. Arc deflected a powerful backhand with his shield, his sword already moving to ward away the expected follow up slash.

The slash didn't come, or at least, not at Arc. Spinning abruptly, Andariel launched an attack at the charging Maiyan, knocking away the spearlike thrust of her glaive and snatching the weapon from her hands. The leaping Jorg Andariel ignored, as the chopping dual weapons of the barbarian were knocked away by another invisible magical barrier. More and more arrows rained into the huge Demoness, most deflected, some slipping past the guard and causing minor wounds.

Andariel raised Maiyan's captured glaive like a javelin and hurled it at the furiously firing Telindhra. The young Rogue was not caught unawares though, and smoothly rolled to the side, avoiding the hurled weapon. Coming up in a kneeling position she again began to fire, hardly missing a beat.

Maiyan stoically took the loss of her primary weapons with hardly a pausing, drawing a throwing spear in her right hand, and a three pronged parrying dagger in her left. Andariel had again turned to the attacking Paladin, outraged by the damage the now flaming enchanted sword was doing, and delivered a huge punch that send the warrior reeling. Maiyan used this opportunity to sink he spear into the flank of the Demoness' huge leg, a wound placed to cripple. Andariel howled, dropping the magical guard for a split second. This second was enough for Jorg to slip past the magical barrier and sink both axe and mage into the other leg of the huge demoness in a massive double overhand chop. Simultaneously arrows launched by the vengeful Rogues slammed into Andariel, many exploding or burning with a frozen touch.

But as their huge adversary stumbled back a few steps the magical barriers again went up. A backhand that could not be stopped by parrying weapons slammed straight into Jorg, hurling him away. Andariel straightened, and despite the wounds to her legs, she displayed none of the signs that should of accompanied crippling blows.

Arc charged the Demon Queen again. This time, as he got within range, he dropped into a forward roll, slipping under the heavy swipe. Coming to his knees, he scored a hit with a quick swipe, leaping to his left, he avoided a kick and again his sword snaked out cutting flesh. Maiyan followed on his heels, moving to the right to offset Arc's attacks on the left. Drawing another of her throwing spears, as the first was still lodged in Andariel's leg, she slashed out hitting the demoness just above the hip. As she lashed out to sink her dagger into the demoness' already wounded leg, the magical barrier that was used for blocking attacks slammed unexpectedly into Maiyan's face, stunning her as she stumbled back.

Now Andariel changed styles. Dropping into a low fighting stance, the towering demon queen bent her frame down as though in a low wrestling form. However, her intention was not to grab or throw like a wrestler, but to bring new weapons into play. The long spider-like arms protruded from her back stretched out to an impressive span. Arc was briefly reminded of a prize peacock spreading it's plumage when searching for a mate. Then the arms curled forward over the demoness' shoulders. Like a cat unsheathing it's claws, the spiked bones tipping the end of each appendage slipped out, until they were the length of large swords.

Then the Demon Queen surged forward and the arms speared forward. Arc employed every skill he had to avoid the spearilike lunges of each of the four arms. Every ounce of strength he possessed was thrown into deflecting with both shield and sword. He leapt and rolled away as arms fell into the spaced he previously occupied, embedding themselves into the floor with ground shuddering force, like falling stalactites. Huge potholes dotted the ground as Arc retreated. Finally a well placed stab slammed into almost the center of Arc's shield, throwing the paladin off his feet and snapping his shield in two, despite the magical enchantment that strengthened it.

But even as she thought she had earned a temporary respite, Jorg once again leapt back into the fray, using all his might to slam the hastily erected magical barrier that held him at bay. Andariel was purely amazed at the strength this mere human commanded as she felt the barrier shudder, almost at cracking point from the huge barbarian's blows. And, as always, to small but numerous arrows hammered into her guard, never allowing her to rest her magical strength, always forcing her power into defense.

A kick sent Jorg sprawling as Arc and Maiyan rejoined the fray. A huge punch slammed Maiyan away as Arc pressed the attack, now swinging his long sword in two hands. Even before Arc could again be knocked away, Jorg and Maiyan were again on their feet and pressing the attack.

A worm of doubt began to enter Andariel. Against all possible reason the humans continually pressed the attack, seemingly without letting up. She would have wagered her soul against Diablo himself that no humans could have stood against her for this long, yet through skill and endurance alone these humans were wearing her down. And those archers that were constantly supporting them were a thorn in her side, never letting up their incessant barrage. In the corner of her eye, Andariel saw the powerful captains of her army battling for their lives against even more of the cursed Rogues. She saw one was already critically wounded and the others were weakening, and she knew that soon her attacker's numbers would almost double.

Letting out a piecing, deafening shriek of pure fury, Andariel let loose her defensive posture. The magical barriers that had been deflecting so many of the attacks of the strike team vanished. Instantly arrows began to sink home, or burn with powerful enchantments into her flesh. Though pained, Andariel ignored the strikes, and for the first time, channeled all her formidable magical strength into attack.

A powerful Nova spell burst out, hurling the three attacking warriors away. Andariel ignored them, focusing instead on the archers harrying her at every angle. Picking one at random, she pointed and a small bolt of purely concentrated poison magic, her signature sphere of magic, slammed into a Rogue.

The highly concentrated poison contained in the fist sized bolt was more powerful than the huge bank of poison fog the Demon Queen had unleashed earlier. The poor Rogue collapsed with an agonised wail, as the concentrated poison, enough to kill half the strike team, entered her body through the pores of her flesh, and coursed through her veins. She didn't suffer long though, as her tortured heart exploded from the strain.

Spinning with lightning speed, Andariel attacked. With a giant leap that sailed clear over Jorg's head as he forced himself to his feet, Andariel landed at the feet of another startled Rogue. Though shocked at this sudden turn of events, the Rogues in Arc's squad were handpicked for experience and level-headedness. Coolly dropping her bow and drawing her duelling weapons, sword and dagger, she attacked.

Both weapons drew blood before the huge demon picked the hapless woman up like a rag doll and wrung her neck. A sickening crack sounded as the body went limp, and Andariel dropped the corpse, whose head now faced in the wrong direction.

Again Arc charged, cursing himself for being unprepared for the magical assault that had cost the lives of two of his team. Again Andariel released the same spell, but this time Arc steeled himself to the potent magic, pushing straight through the pain and convulsions the lightning spell brought on.

Andariel's hand flashed out, timed to catch the charging warrior full on as he entered striking distance. But Arc had anticipated this move and had stopped his charge abruptly, spinning on his heel and delivering a huge backhand swipe at Andariel's swinging hand. The two blows connected solidly, the force numbing Arc's arm, but slashing through bone and tendon in the demoness' hand. Half the hand, along with three fingers fell away, blood spurting from the diagonal wound.

Jorg leapt high into the air, clear over Arc's head, to connect with Andariel's lower torso, burying his awe deep into her belly. Andariel, in a fury with pain, grabbed the barbarian and threw him into the Paladin. As the rolled to their feet, she again gestured broadly and the dreaded bank of venomous fog billowed out at them point blank.

At this close range, the poison was far more concentrated than before, and caught off guard, both inhaled the noxious substance. All strength fled from their bodies and both collapsed, moaning. Only Maiyan, having paused to retrieve her glaive and thus was steps behind and ready for the magical attack, came through the bank relatively unharmed.

Suddenly without immediate allies, despair flooded the amazon. Yet this despair was brutally stamped out, and the amazon never hesitated as she launched her attack, regardless of the knowledge of certain death in facing the Demon Queen alone. Her weapon lashed out in a swift slash before jabbing out again and again faster than ever before, despite her weariness. Yet the bold attack availed her little as the powerful hell fiend shrugged off the attack. A giant hand lashed out and grabbed the Amazon by her outstretched arms, picking her up like a child. The glaive dropped from her hands as Maiyan was lifted into the air by her captured wrists. Never giving up, she curled her body and kicked out at the huge arm holding her captive. Andariel laughed at the futile gesture, enjoying her moment of triumph. Her other hand reached out and grasped the struggling Amazon around the waist, ending her futile kicks.

Bringing the Amazon forward in front of her face, Andariel smirked at the Amazon. For the first time, she spoke "I wonder what will break first? Your arms, or your back?" she asked as she slowly bending the Amazon's upwards, oustretched arms backwards like a lever. Despite the building pain, the amazon refused to scream, even as the muscles in her arms were slowly being stretched almost to ripping point, and her back bent almost to snapping.

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Throughout the battle, Telindhra had felt almost useless. Again and again she launched her arrows at the terrifying demon, only to have them deflected by some powerful magic agent. Even those that did go through, to sink into flesh were ignored by the demon queen, as though the wounds they inflicted were to paltry to notice. She watched as her companions endlessly strove against the vile demoness that was a bane to her order. Again and again she watched them knocked away by huge blows, only to see them leap to their feet, shrug away the pain and charge back into battle. Silently she saluted her courageous companions knowing that if any could win victory for this land, it would be them.

She longed to somehow stand by their side as they fought their titanic battle. But she knew that her place was with her bow, being the only real way for her to make a difference. Still, she cursed every time another arrow missed its mark.

Then, suddenly Andariel's tactics changed. In the blink of an eye one of her companions was struck down by powerful magic, in the next Andariel was standing where another should have been, and her other companion was struggling in her arms. When that sickening wet snap echoed through the chamber Telindhra jumped. Andariel released her grip and what was once a Rogue, one of the most experienced and powerful of their order, one that Telindhra had always looked up to, even as a child, wanting to be like her, fell to the ground, limp like a sack of blood and bone.

At that point, Telindhra almost shamed herself by fleeing. Despite her formidable skill and cool outer façade, Telindhra was young and virtually untried. Up to a few days ago, she had never seen combat before. The closest she had come was to shooting at a few monsters from the wooden wall of the Rogue's fortified camp. Before she had wriggled out from under the wooden palisade so few nights ago, she had dreamed about proving herself in battle, slaying foe after foe with her bow like an Amazon Queen of the ancient legends.

Her experience in the monster's den with Arc had awakened her to the mind numbing terror of battle. When she and the paladin made their way to the old graveyard to destroy the Blood Raven, every step she had wanted to flee in terror. At times only the presence of the paladin and her own pride stopped her from breaking down, abandoning what she was convinced was a suicide mission. And this sneaking mission through the enemy-held Monastery had tested the limits of her courage. Surrounded in all directions, their lives at risk every second, dependant upon their being undetected, Telindhra had felt the strain of the unknown constantly, wondering at every turn if this was the one that would have them in front of just a single enemy that raised the alarm that would end their lives. It had almost been a relief to reach the final level of the Catacombs, knowing that battle was imminent, no more sneaking or fear of discovery.

But this moment was the most terrifying of her life. This impossibly huge demon monster was the most petrifying image, and the horrifying ease in which she picked up her comrade and wrung the life from her made Telindhra's legs turn to jelly and her stomach churn. She longed to run, to flee and hide away and never return. For a long moment she could not move, not fire her bow or scarcely even breathe. All she thought was, gods above I'm next. And slowly Andariel turned and started to look in her direction, and Telindhra knew she was about to die.

Then a figure came hurtling into view, steel flashing and voice raised in an enraged warcry. Andariel turned, Telindhra forgotten, and attacked. A blade arced and blood spurted; Andariel reared up in pain. Somehow Telindhra managed to begin thinking again. Arc. Once again he had saved her life, and he didn't even know it. Since she had known him, all throughout the battles and adventures they had been through together she had carefully warn a mask around him, first of derision then of camaraderie. Because she did not want him, or anyone, to see the real emotions that she had felt on her new found assignments. Fear. She was a coward, terror stricken and not worthy of the title of Rogue.

Now she watched as Jorg hurled himself into the fray, burying weapons into Andariel's flesh. Suddenly, she was sure they would be victorious. Despite the dreaded image of the hugely powerful Demon Queen, she knew how formidable the three warriors were together. Seeing the three again and again leap up after taking huge blows from the dreaded Demon Queen, again throwing themselves into combat seemingly without fear or fatigue, her heart suddenly told them that these warriors were invincible, could cast down defiance to hell itself.

But then with a single gesture her hopes were dashed. As the bank of poison engulfed the two men, and then a second later the amazon too, her breath caught. Then, with the sight of the paladin and the barbarian on their knees, desperately fighting the insidious poison working into their systems, unable to rise to their feet to oppose the laughing Andariel, Telindhra's heart shattered and her shoulder's sagged. Hope surged for an instant at the sight of Maiyan on her feet, not pausing in her attack regardless of personal peril. But this hope was crushed as Andariel contemptuously caught the amazon's arms and lifted the warrior from her feet. Screaming in denial, Telindhra again raised her weapon and began loosing shaft after shaft. She saw Andariel begin to slowly bend the amazon's arms back, torturing her before death. Once again Andariel had ignored her attacks, like the biting of a bug.

Her mind and soul screamed out at her to flee. All is lost, it said. The warriors have fallen, she will kill you all next. To stay was to die uselessly. She could not be defeated. RUN!

She picked out one last arrow. Summoning all the inner energy she had left, she fashioned her most powerful enchantment, pouring all her strength into it. If she could just distract the Demon Queen for a second, loose her grip on Maiyan for an instant . . . The arrow flew as every other shaft she had loosed. With perfect precision she arrow flew into its hellish target, exploding and burning in powerful magic. The Demon Queen jerked as if stabbed. Maiyan's screams halted as Andariel stopped her little game for a moment. Surprised at the fury of the bolt and the damage it had caused, Andariel turned towards Telindhra and nodded, as if to say, You are next. Then she turned away and began pulling the Amazon's arms back, returning to her game of torture before killing the Amazon, and once again the screams began.

Telindhra sagged, dropping her bow. Despair swept over her. She had done all she could, she told her self. She had tried and tried. There was nothing left for her. She had no power left to enchant her arrows and she had seen the effect normal arrows had on the Demon Queen. And the gods knew her inexperience with other weapons. She had almost died at the hands of a Corrupt Rogue earlier attempting to defend herself with close combat weapons. No, to attack Andariel with the dagger and short sword at her belt would be useless. Worse than useless. Suicide.

Yet she found herself charging towards the preoccupied demoness. With the grace of a forest bred huntress, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her, not away from the battle, but towards the very nexus of it, dagger in left hand, held in a backwards, stabbing grip, and short sword raised.

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The pain was starting to become unbearable for Maiyan. Further and further her arms outstretched above her head were stretched back by the cruel Demon Queen. She could feel her muscles stretch and knew with just a little bit more pressure they would snap out of their shoulder sockets and snap back unnaturally behind her back. She dimly remembered the heavily enchanted arrow that arced in to win her a moment's respite, but that seemed ages ago, and remembering anything through the pain was a chore.

Suddenly a figure flashed into her peripheral vision. Andariel screamed and released her hold and the pain mercifully receded. Maiyan fell heavily to the floor, cradling her sore arms.

Looking up, she remembered what she had seen into depths of her pain, moments before. Telindhra had come hurdling in, seemingly out of no where. With a feat of impossible acrobatics, the lithe Rogue had leapt up. Pushing herself off with one leg off Andariel's thigh, she had stabbed down heard with her left hand, burying the three pronged dagger deep into Andariel's arm. Then, using that as a lever, she pushed herself up as though climbing a mountain and swung her right leg upwards up to the base of the spider like arms. Thus, half lying horizontal on Andariel's back, on leg dangling below, she plunged her short sword deep, right up to the hilt, into the hollow of the Demon Queen's left shoulder, right next to the neck.

Andariel reared back in pain, more pain than she had ever felt in this mortal realm, though it was less pain than she had on occasion endured her home dimension of Hell. Straightening legs that suddenly seemed loath to hold her up, her spider appendages curled back, trying to impale the Rogue. But the Rogue's position gave it safety from those arms, the spider arms no more able to reach the Rogue than a human hand was to reach its own forearm. Telindhra held on, one hand on the sword, and one arm gripping a handful of fur on Andariel's back, desperately holding on as Andariel stumbled and swayed from side to side. Finally Andariel reached back with her human like arms and picked the girl up and hurled her away from her. She would have desperately loved to take the girls arms and tear them from her body, or to bite the girls head off, punish her for the pain that she had caused, but Andariel was too busy trying to regain control of her rebelling body.

Her legs gave way and the huge Demon Queen fell to her hands and knees. Blood leaked out of her mouth, dripping down her chin and to the floor. A Rogue, one of the two that had survived the battles with Andariel's lieutenants surged forward, sensing victory near. A spider arm lashed out, the bone claw taking the Rogue through the chest, impaling her. With another flick, the dying Rogue flew away slamming into a wall with bone crunching force.

Reaching up and tearing Telindhra's sword away, Andariel snarled, _"Fools . . . You think . . . You have . . . defeated . . . me?"_ Blood frothed at her mouth, and each word was a labor. _"Even now . . . I . . . heal . . . within . . . days . . . I will be . . . back to . . . full . . . strength!"_

Another Rogue rushed in, hearing Andariel's words and desperate to end the threat. She parried a bone thrust with her sword. But she simply lacked the strength to fully parry the demon's attacks with her parrying dagger, and a turned thrust grazed her shoulder, dislocating her arm and sending her sprawling.

Telindhra raised her head from the ground. She struggled to her knees, tears leaking out. Slamming her fist into the ground, she wept in frustration. They had come so close, but now only two Rogues were on her feet, another dazed and on the ground, her shoulder dislocated.

Collapsing on the floor, Telindhra slipped into dark oblivion, never expecting to wake.

For what seemed like eternity, he had suffered. His entire body on fire, he continually struggled to grasp consciousness. Somehow, he had the knowledge that to stay awake was to live, to slip away, into sleep, away from the pain, was death. So he strove and strove, fought through the agony, reaching for thought, for live.

At last it came. Levering himself up, thought came back. Yes, the poison, that was what was wracking his body with waves of pain. The Demon Queen had poisoned him. He must get up, fight. Raising his head wearily, he took stock. Somehow, Andariel had taken a wound, near the neck, blood poured out and her breath was labored, clearly a major wound, if not a fatal one. Bodies were sprawled all over this chamber. Only two Rogues were left on their feet. One charged at the wounded Demon Queen, yelling for the gods to give her strength. Dodging spider appendages, she came within a few steps of Andariel, her sword raised, when one of the claw tipped arms connected, shearing upwards, ripping the Rogue open from groin to neck, showering blood.

So close, he thought. From his studies, he knew of demon powers, and that only death would defeat a demon of this power. Anything less would heal within days. Raging to himself, he willed his arms to lift, his legs to support. We willed himself to stand. Long moments he battled with his own poisoned body, before slumping down in exhaustion.

Thus it ends. We die. Andariel wins. He had not the strength to rise. He was only human, and humans had limits. As much as it angered and pained him, he had reached his. Stress, battle fatigue, wounds and finally powerful poison had weakened him until now he could not stand. He cleared his mind, and accepted the death he could not change.

His eyes wandered. He took stock of those lying sprawled around the chamber. Next to him lay the huge barbarian, also badly poisoned. A bit beyond him lay the skilled Amazon. So these two would die with him. He mentally saluted them their toughness and skill. Never had he met such brilliant warriors. He counted the Rogues of his team. All were accounted for, none had fled. He saluted their courage and dedication to their vows and their organization. They were an honor to the Rogues.

Then finally, his eyes fell on the last of the Rogues. Young Telindhra, not even twenty years old. She lay across from him, unconscious as though sleeping. He dimly recalled, though it had not registered in his poison induced stupor, and image of her heroic leap onto Andariel's back, her plunging her sword home. He recalled other images. Her wriggling out from under the camp walls, unsatisfied by her superior's decision of inaction, deciding to attack a lair of monsters on her own. Her by his side, using her bow with deadly precision as they fought the Blood Raven's hordes. Her dropping her bow and drawing sword and dagger to engage a corrupted sister Rogue. Almost from the instant he saw her handling her weapons he recognized her inaptitude with close combat weapons. Only her quick wit and cunning had saved her in that encounter as she squared off with one who was her superior in skill. Already a master of her chosen weapon, the young Rogue was quick, intelligent and cunning. Still yet to be fully trained, she had the potential to be the greatest warrior he had ever seen, including himself. Of all who he lead, he judged her the most courageous, never hesitation even when facing her own limitations.

For her to die here, now, after all she had done, was to great a tragedy to contemplate. No, he thought to himself, he could not let that happen. Slowly but determined, Arc deQuester rose to his feet. Bending to pick up his longsword, he wavered, weakened, but then thrust that weakness aside. He could not, would not be weak now.

Walking forward with purpose, he stalked in. Andariel turned her head, seeing him approach. Still waking with that same maddening slowness, he entered the reach of her spider arms. The two on his side flashed out at him. He dodged to one side, avoiding both. One swung in from the side; he parried it upwards and away. Another stabbed in, aimed for his heart; with a titanic swing, he slammed the claw away. Another dived in, sidestepping he chopped down, severing it at the joint. Reaching Andariel's side, she leapt forward at the last instant, burying his longsword up to the hilt into her side.

Screaming in pain, he three remaining spider appendages curled up, constricting in agony. Forcefully ripping his blade free, he again shoved his blade deep into the Demon Queen's body. Then, others were beside him, still others on the opposite side of Andariel. Jorg was there, wearily but determinedly slamming his mace two handed into Andariel's side, for his axe was still embedded in the muscles of her belly.

Maiyan, with barely the strength the lift her glaive with her tortured arms still managed to jab at the Demon Queen a few times, though the attacks barely had the strength the pierce the skin, On the opposite side, one Rogue stabbed the demoness in the side again and again, and the wounded Rogue that had the dislocated arm gave Andariel a deep stabbing wound in the shoulder that mirrored the one inflicted by Telindhra.

With that last thrust, Andariel succumbed. With a low cry, the huge Demon Queen slumped to the ground, falling into death.


	14. Epilogue

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

_Epilogue_

It was a pitiful group that half stepped and half collapsed through the second Town Portal that spawned in the Rogue camp. Arc came through first, cradling an unconscious Telindhra in his arms. Laying her gently down near a campfire nearby, her head pillowed on a log, he finally succumbed to the powerful poison still coursing through his veins, collapsing, near death. Behind him came Jorg and Maiyan, leaning on each other, each lending much needed support. Behind them came the two surviving Rogues, one cradling a dislocated arm that might never be used again.

Once it was clear that there was no danger left on the other side, in Andariel's throne room, Rogues were dispatched to collect the dead. The bodies were brought through to be honorably cremated, including that of Quanintas, the tough Rogue lieutenant that died battling one of Andariel's Corrupt Rogue captains.

Deckard Cain commandeered the use of Akara's stores, ordering powerful antidote potions to be administered to the Arc, Jorg and Maiyan, all of whom had suffered Andariel's feared poison magic, though Maiyan was less effected. Other extremely rare restorative potions were administered to the warriors that had defeated the Demon Queen.

A message was sent through the first town portal, and soon a flood of Rogues began returning through this portal, followed by Akara and her priestesses. The number of Rogues that returned was greater than the most optimistic estimates of survivors. The Rogues that had assaulted the Catacombs, in a bid to draw attention away from the strike on Andariel, had fought like demons. Long cooped up defending this rude wooden palisade, the Rogues had streamed into the Catacombs thirsty for revenge. The Corrupt Rogues had fallen back in disarray at the first incursion, and the second engagement, this time an assault by the gathered hell minions, outnumbering the good Rogues almost three to two, was swept away by the good Rogue forces in a righteous fury. The remaining monsters left in the Catacombs fled, some to hide from the wrath of their enemies and their mistress alike, others to rush to inform the demoness that was their leader. They were in for a shock when they reached the throne room.

But once again the Rogues withdrew from the ancestral Monastery. Emboldened by their victory, they nevertheless knew that they had not the strength to take Andariel's army. And the spell of the priestess' could not be sustained forever. Thus they withdrew back to this fortified camp, to again await their opportunity. For with no demonic head to keep the hellish army bound together, they would shatter into bickering factions, some by race, others by intentions and loyalties. No longer did the threat of combined evil armies hang over the head of the Rogues. Soon, there would be no band of evil monsters that could alone threaten the existence of the Rogues. Evil had not vanished forever from this land, by now, good had a chance to endure.

The two portals closed, holes swirling smaller and smaller into nothingness, like the evil ambitions of the Demon Queen that threatened this land.

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That night the camp celebrated. However, though it was truly a joyous occasion, the atmosphere of the camp was all wrong, Those expecting a huge celebration thrown with wild, joyous abandon were disappointed. Though there was laughing, dancing and celebrating, there was also disquiet on the air, a tension that spoke as though at any second the festivity could be shattered.

Of the four heroes that had made this victory possible, only one did not hover on death's door. The Amazon Maiyan, though severely wounded with both her arms bandaged and slung, was the only one awake and aware. Both the paladin and the Barbarian, despite being administered plenty of the powerful enchanted antidote, teetered on the brink of death, their bodies pale, their breath labored and their bodies covered with a cold sweat brought about by a fearsome fever.

The entire camp was waiting upon the news of these foreigners that had been instrumental in the victory that had saved their organization and their land. But the greatest worry of the people was that for their very own hero, the young Rogue Telindhra.

Thrown with awesome power by the Demon Queen after she had slammed home the crucial blow, Telindhra had fallen badly, smashing down into the hard stone floor almost head first before rolling. Her right shoulder bones were completely shattered into shards and her neck fractured badly. A little more force and she would have died instantly, her neck snapped. Only the quick intervention of Akara and a conclave of no less than ten of the most powerful priestesses had stopped her from falling into death. A combination of their combined powers, had completely reconstructed the broken bones of the young Rogue. For now her body was that of a healthy young woman, without flaw.

Yet Telindhra had not awoken from the deep coma she was in. The priestesses had been in time to save her body, but it remained to be seen if they had saved her spirit. She might have already been too far gone, her essence fled in that instance. She might already be dead, and her body has yet to let go.

So the entire camp waited for the fateful news, anxious to see whether the heroes were to live. As a noxious trader named Gheed had noted, "It was like the lot of them had bet their life savings on a horse than crossed the line at the same time as another, and they were waiting on the judges decision!"

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Two days later, for the first time, Akara stepped out of the large tent that served as an infirmary, followed by all the other priestesses. Instantly, life stopped in the camp, as all turned to face the priestesses for the news. For all to leave at once could only mean one of two things, that the patients had died, or they were recovering well without need for supervision. Collectively, the Rogue camp held its breath.

Then Akara's tired face broke out into a grin, and whatever words she had, whatever declaration was to be made, was lost in the joyous roar of the camp.

Here Ends

**THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL**

**To Be Continued in**

**SANDS AND SORCERY**


End file.
